


Playing with Fire | Dramione

by its_banannaz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Dies, Hermione gets dark okay, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-War, Protective Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 72
Words: 102,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29539653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_banannaz/pseuds/its_banannaz
Summary: The Dark Lord reigns victorious. Hermione Granger is the sole survivor of The Order and is taken captive, serving as means to an unknown end in Voldemort's master plan. Branded like cattle and isolated from anyone she's ever loved, Hermione feels utterly hopeless. If Harry Potter can't defeat Lord Voldemort, who can?
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall & Kingsley Shacklebolt
Comments: 28
Kudos: 81





	1. This wasn't how it was supposed to end

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I just wanted to preface this with a few things:
> 
> This is a SLOW BURN so please be patient. I promise things pick up and get a little {spicy} but this is a storyline with smut so I couldn't just jump straight into things.
> 
> Most of the chapters are relatively short in my opinion, but there are obviously a lot of them. I'm not a fan of dragging chapters out super long for no reason but some are definitely longer than others depending on what's happening that chapter.
> 
> There are no warnings throughout the story, but this is written for 18+ so if you are not 18+ well, you've been warned. I don't think there is anything in the story that would be considered triggering for the most part, but just know this is a relatively dark AU where Voldemort won. Things aren't going to be all rainbows and sunshine.
> 
> Again, I'm not putting trigger warnings but if mature content and themes bother you - manipulation, sexual scenes, descriptive violence, etc. - don't read it!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts so comment throughout if you want to :) I also put one (and sometimes multiple) songs that fit the vibe of that chapter if you're interested in listening to them. I even made a Spotify playlist with all the songs in order here:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0eNY29wqwiY5lhTHDrC959?si=0mX2VhObTL2L5GC4xB7F7A
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you love the story!

**Song** : riptide - grandon

Harry was alive. _Alive_.

They had all seen Hagrid carry his lifeless body into the courtyard, halting the battle, and shocking both sides. But he was faking.

_Thank God_ , Hermione thought to herself.

Harry stood suddenly and everyone gasped in shock, Hermione wanted to call his name out so badly, yet no sound came out.

It was as if the only two people in the courtyard were Harry and Voldemort. It started that way, and surely would end that way as well.

Without warning, both wizards called out and aimed their wands with deadly intent. Two jets of light shot out towards each other and made an impact as loud as a storm - one green, one red. The sound pierced the courtyard and Hermione felt her heart rate increase. She held onto Ron's hand for dear life, as if somehow she could simply stand there and love Harry hard enough to save him.

"You're only delaying the inevitable!", Voldemort shouted with a raspy voice that made her shiver.

"Neville no!", Ron yelled and Hermione turned to see Neville Longbottom sprinting towards Voldemort and Nagini with Gryffindor's Sword in his hands. But it was too late. Neville swung hard in hopes of killing Voldemort's only remaining horcrux, but it wasn't enough. Bellatrix shot green light at Neville as his body spun through the air and landed hard on the ground.

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes, but she didn't even have time to mourn. Harry and Voldemort hadn't budged from where they stood, and when Hermione focused back on them, the green was pushing the red further and further back.

Time moved in slow motion as she saw the fear in Harry's eyes and felt her heart began to ache. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. It couldn't.

Voldemort screamed and the green light shot straight through Harry's wand, splitting it in two, and right into him.

His body flew backwards like a ragdoll until it collided with the castle walls, making a horrible _crack_.

There was a loud, painful cry that echoed through the courtyard that Hermione didn't even realize had come from her.

She couldn't believe he was dead. Harry was the boy who lived. _Was_.

She collapsed in Ron's arms but her sobs were drowned out by Voldemort's change in focus.

"Narcissa Malfoy", he called out in a way that made her skin crawl. A way that implied there was hell to pay, and apparently Narcissa would be on the receiving end of it.

"You've made a grave mistake my dear", he stated and drifted eerily towards the Malfoy family.

Without hesitation, Voldemort pointed his wand at Narcissa and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

Narcissa was ripped away from where she had clung onto her son's arm, and with that, she was gone. No one was safe from Voldemort. Mudblood, pureblood, Death Eater - none of it meant a thing if you didn't meet his expectations and serve a purpose.

There was no warning before Voldemort and his followers began shooting killing curses at anyone they could find. Witches and wizards of all ages scattered in fear, bumping into each other and tripping over their own feet. There was nowhere to go.

"Hermione, come on!", Ron called, gripping her hand as tightly as possible, and she struggled to keep up as they tried to maneuver through the mass of people.

Someone ran straight into the two, causing their hands to part, and it was just enough to doom her. She felt an intense pain permeate the back of her head and she screamed.

Her vision started to go black as she fought to maintain consciousness. "Hermione!", she heard from her right, and she turned her head just in time to see Ginny get hit with a jet of green light, collapsing onto the ground instantly. Hermione gasped, as her vision left her completely, all the while wondering if this was it. Harry dead, Ginny dead, Ron probably dead, and now her.


	2. Mistake

**Song** : Another Love - Tom Odell

Draco stood stiffly next to his father, watching Potter face-off with Voldemort, and he wondered if this was it. No one in the courtyard dared to even breathe, all waiting in horrific anticipation.

Narcissa gripped Draco's arm tightly and leaned towards him to speak softly, "Draco, we have to leave now".

"This isn't the time, Mother. It's too dangerous", he whispered back to her.

"Please, Draco", she begged him, "I have made a mistake and I cannot let it affect either of you".

He glanced sideways at her in confusion when they both startled at the sound of two spells being cast, causing the crowd to back away quickly.

Green and red light struck in the air like lightning, harshly piercing the silence as they each yelled with all the power they could muster.

"You're only delaying the inevitable", Voldemort told Harry as they both held their stances with determination.

A yell came from somewhere in the crowd as Longbottom sprinted towards the center of the courtyard with a sword. He swung at Nagini with the weapon but was blown back by Aunt Bellatrix's killing course. She smiled, showing her crooked, yellow teeth, and Draco winced.

When Longbottom attempted to attack Voldemort's pet, it had distracted him just enough to allow Potter's spell to push a little further, but it was a short lived victory.

Sweat began to form on Potter's brow and for the first time, he looked genuinely scared. Doubtful. Fearful even.

Narcissa tugged on Draco's sleeve frantically, but it was too late.

At that moment, green defeated red, splitting Potter's wand and hitting him directly in the chest. He flew back against the hard stone of Hogwarts, cracking his head loudly, but it didn't matter. He was dead.

A loud cry echoed across the courtyard and Draco turned his head to see Hermione Granger, looking absolutely broken at the sight of her friend.

It didn't matter that Draco's family were Death Eaters. He never imagined it would end this way, never wanted it to. But it had.

"Narcissa Malfoy", Voldemort boomed after a few long moments passed, everyone standing stone still, the only sound Hermione Granger's sobs across the way. Draco's blood ran cold and he grabbed his mother's hand tightly.

Voldemort slowly turned to face the Malfoy family standing side by side - Narcissa on Draco's left, Lucius on his right. He could feel his father tensing next to him.

"You've made a grave mistake my dear", he told Narcissa, eyes trained on her as he floated towards them. His mother's hand shook fearfully.

"Avada Kedavra!", Voldemort shouted and Narcissa shot backwards from Draco's grip.

His stomach lurched as he watched his mother's eyes roll to the back of her head. He couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

Voldemort began throwing killing curses left and right as the Death Eaters began to follow suit, jumping right back into the fight. Some chose to knock resistance members out, others opting to just eliminate them all together.

Green light lit up the courtyard in every direction. The resistance members panicked, scrambling to get out of the lines of fire, but most didn't succeed.

It was then that Draco blacked out. He didn't faint, he simply couldn't remember anything that happened next.

The shock of his mother's death was too much. The last thing he saw was Narcissa lying lifeless on the ground, his father sprinting to her side. An image he could never unsee, a memory he could never forget.

When he finally came to, the battle was over. His mother was dead, his father was blind, and Voldemort had won.


	3. The Dungeon

**Song** : Siren - Kailee Morgue

Hermione was freezing when she woke up. The light was dim, and her back was aching from the cold floor. It appeared to be a dungeon entirely of stone floors and walls. The only light source was a dim candle in the corner of the room near a set of stairs.

She was still wearing her clothes from the Battle of Hogwarts, a pair of jeans, trainers, a thin, pink zip-up, and a denim jacket. They felt stiff and clung to her body from the splotches of blood, dirt, and who knows what else.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and began to sob, remembering her last memory of Harry, of Ron, of Ginny. How much time had passed since then? Where was she?

She was shaking for multiple reasons - hunger, fear, sadness, the cold.

She glanced to her right and saw a plate of food - a single slice of bread and a handful of rice. It had clearly been sitting there for a while. She grabbed the glass of water next to it and quickly emptied it.

She felt a weight on her bladder and panicked when she realized there was nowhere to go. _Shit_.

She scanned the dungeon and saw a bed pan in the adjacent corner from where she sat.

Hermione was suddenly very aware that her knickers were soiled. _Oh God, had she peed on herself?_ She looked down and saw blood stains all over her crotch, seeping straight through her pants. She instantly began to sob again, she felt mortified, scared, and alone.

A sudden _POP_ pierced the air and she gasped, quickly wiping her eyes and looking up to see a house elf standing in front of her.

The elf appeared to be fiddling her hands behind her back and looked at Hermione shyly with her large blue eyes.

"Prisoner is needing anything?", the elf asked her softly.

She looked down at her pants in embarrassment and the elf gasped.

"Bopsy wasn't knowing prisoner was having her courses! Bopsy will tell Master Malfoy!"

Hermione's heart sunk. _Master Malfoy_?

"Um, Bopsy I-", she started, but it was too late. Bopsy the elf had disappeared.

She was in the house of the Malfoys? She was a prisoner of _Lucius Malfoy_? But why?

Her heart was racing with fear. She began to shiver, but her body was too exhausted to even stand, or sit up really. She fell into an uncomfortable sleep, leaving her spine feeling deformed.

When she awoke, there was a fresh pair of clothes, a cloth pad for her courses, and a thin blanket next to her. _What a gentleman_ , Hermione thought sarcastically.


	4. Sanguis Stigma

**Song** : Devil in Paradise - Cruel Youth

Draco sat stone faced at the table of Death Eaters, only a few seats away from the Dark Lord himself. He was discussing the next steps to be taken in disposal of mudbloods, enslaving of half-bloods, and reforming Hogwarts.

Draco couldn't focus on his words. He tried to, pretended to, but all he could see was his mother's dead body laying in the Hogwarts courtyard.

Despite the table being full, he was undoubtedly alone in this meeting.

After killing his mother, the Dark Lord had blinded his father with a curse. Apparently Narcissa's death wasn't enough retribution.

The Dark Lord said he wanted to "teach" Draco how to climb the ranks, and not become an "utter disappointment" like his parents. Narcissa had lied to him. She said Potter was dead when he wasn't. And she paid for it. So did Lucius, and by default, Draco.

While Draco didn't watch his father lose his sight, the deed had been done by the time he saw him again.

According to the Dark Lord, Lucius needed to be punished for his weak wife's behavior. He shouldn't want to ever even see her face again, not even in portraits. He should be ashamed of his wife. And so he made Narcissa's death as permanent in Lucius's eyes as he possibly could.

"While most of the resistance were disposed of, there were a few that escaped. They will inevitably attempt to take down my regime", the Dark Lord's voice faded back into Draco's attention. "Lucius will not be back until November. He needs time to truly _see_ his wife's error in judgement", he chuckled darkly at his joke and several other Death Eaters did the same. Draco tensed in his seat, but tried not to show it.

"When he returns, he will be in charge of all military matters. In the meantime, Theodore, I expect you to temporarily take over that position", the Dark Lord said and faced Theo.

Draco glanced directly across the table at where Theo sat. If he was nervous, he certainly didn't show it. "Yes my Lord, I'm honored you would give me the responsibility", Theo told the Dark Lord.

"Excellent", the Dark Lord hissed.

Draco wanted to leave. To go home. To just die. Anything but this misery.

He hated that the terrible world the Dark Lord had spent years envisioning was now becoming a reality. He didn't want to be a part of it. The only reason he took the dark mark was in an effort to protect his mother and father, but he never expected this. And it was all for nothing.

"Draco, I assume you have no problem with that?", the Dark Lord asked him, every set of eyes at the table turning to him as well.

"Of course my Lord, no problem at all", he responded confidently, having absolutely no clue what this was about.

The Dark Lord hummed in approval. "The mudblood will be delivered to your home early tomorrow morning. Not to worry - Yaxley has concocted a spell for you to easily control her. We need her relatively unscathed so that I can use her when the time comes. After that, she can be disposed of".

Draco nodded in response, still completely lost on what the conversation was about, but he agreed all the same. It wasn't like it mattered what this was about. He wouldn't have a choice regardless now, he never did.

The next morning, Yaxley arrived at the front door of Malfoy Manor. Draco opened the door and was shocked to see Hermione Granger standing there, expressionless, almost inhuman. Yaxley didn't seem to notice his reaction.

"The mudblood is imperio'd to do as I say, but that's just for the time being. We can undo it later so you can perform the _Sanguis Stigma_ ", he said proudly.

Draco raised an eyebrow and looked at him condescending.

"The spell I came up with you git. It's called _Sanguis Stigma_ ", he elaborated.

Draco stared at him wordlessly. He must really think himself something, making up ridiculous spells to please the Dark Lord. He probably found it in an ancient textbook and was simply passing it off as his own creation.

Yaxley handed him a small notebook scribbled with notes that appeared to be Yaxley's. "We plan to use this on all those half-blood servants, but I thought she'd be a good test subject, eh?", he smirked and looked over Hermione with a predatory expression. Draco cringed. "If only", Yaxley said, stroking her arm. "You better appreciate what the Dark Lord has given you here, especially after-", Draco cut him off.

"Don't even think about it. Say those words and they'll be your last", he said, pressing the tip of his wand deep into Yaxley's throat. Yaxley gulped and gave a short nod in response. He had never liked Yaxley, and he definitely didn't now. Fucking pervert.

Yaxley made Granger follow them as Draco led the two down to the dungeon. He had her sit on the hard floor before undoing the Imperio curse. He quickly knocked her out cold as soon as the curse was undone to avoid any resistance or trouble. "I highly suggest you perform the spell as soon as possible", he told Draco, "It'll make things a lot easier for you kid". He patted Draco on the back and Draco scowled in response, signaling that it was time for Yaxley to leave.

Draco stared at Granger's body, laid on the ground of the dungeon and looking dreadfully uncomfortable, for long after Yaxley had gone. He didn't even want to look at the notebook he had given him. He wanted to burn it in the fireplace and just let Granger do whatever the hell she wanted. It didn't matter to him. He didn't ask for a human being to be responsible for, yet it was thrusted upon him all the same.

He had never cared for the Granger girl, but he didn't have a problem with her either. She never appeared to be anything special, apart from being the biggest know-it-all Draco had ever met. She simply had the misfortune of being friends with two gits that Draco couldn't stand.

Despite his upbringing in the Malfoy house, he never truly followed along with his family's ideologies. He just pretended to. It was easier that way. Blood was blood. Magic was magic. What difference did it make? None, as far as Draco was concerned.

Regardless, Draco had no desire to harm Granger, which clearly the Death Eaters were blatantly unaware of. Staring at the girl on the floor reminded him so much of his mother lying dead in the courtyard. But this girl was alive, just unconscious.

He felt his eyes begin to tear up at the thought but he quickly sucked it up and wiped them away. He didn't want to be there when Granger woke up, he didn't want any part of it. He swiftly left the room and tried, despite all the previous failed attempts, to stop thinking about the fact that he would never get to see his mother again.


	5. Not a guest

**Song** : My Little Dark Age - MGMT

Hermione awoke to a loud _POP_ in the room and jerked so hard that she hit her skull on the stone wall behind her.

"Shit", she muttered, touching the back of her head and pulling her hand away to find dots of red blood on her fingertips.

"Prisoner is injured?", Bopsy squeaked in panic, "Prisoner is not supposed to being hurt! Let Bopsy help prisoner!", she said shuffling forward quickly towards Hermione.

 _Prisoner is not supposed to be hurt?_ That didn't sound like Lucius Malfoy at all, or the one she knew at least.

Bopsy disapparated and then came back with supplies to clean the blood off of the back of Hermione's head. "Thank you Bopsy", she told her, hesitantly picking at the bandages Bopsy had placed, which didn't seem to be sticking due to her thick curls in the way.

"Prisoner is not being hurt no more?", Bopsy asked. Hermione shook her head no. It was a lie. That hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't really Bopsy's fault. It wasn't Bopsy's fault that Hermione was trapped in a dungeon. She was simply doing what she was forced to.

"Prisoner is needing anything then?", she asked her curiously.

"I have some questions actually", Hermione told her, crossing her legs in front of her to try and stop the pain her tailbone was feeling from the floor.

"Bopsy is not to answer questions! No! Bopsy cannot-", she panicked.

Hermione grabbed Bopsy's little hand softly, "It's okay Bopsy, I...won't ask questions. But can you give me answers - not to questions of course" She knew she would have to word it carefully to get around Bopsy's orders and not get her in trouble.

Bopsy seemed confused but hesitantly nodded, which was enough for Hermione.

"We're in Malfoy Manor...", Hermione stated, and Bopsy nodded in response.

"I see", she responded. "I've been here for days", she paused to study Bopsy. Bopsy didn't respond. "I've been here for...weeks?", she tried not to make it sound like a question. Bopsy hesitantly nodded her head yes.

"Why am I here then?", she asked, forgetting that she couldn't _actually_ ask questions, but it was too late. Bopsy had already gone into a frenzy.

"Bopsy cannot! Must not answer questions for prisoner!", Bopsy cracked.

"Okay, shhhh I'm sorry Bopsy!", Hermione tried to calm the house elf down but she was still shaking. "No more questions, I promise", Bopsy nodded softly in response, tears of fear still lingering in her large eyes.

She slowly stood on shaky legs and turned to lift up her shirt and show Bopsy the bruises that littered her back and spine from sleeping on the hard floor.

"This isn't a question, more a request", Hermione began, "my back is hurt from sleeping on the floor. Could I have somewhere more comfortable to sleep?"

"The mudblood is not deserving anything! The mudblood is a prisoner, not a guest! The mudblood is not deserving of anything!", Bopsy shouted as if it had been memorized.

Hermione huffed in frustration. "Well then. Tell _Master Malfoy_ I would like a word with him. As soon as possible."

Bopsy looked unsure, and then disapparated without a word.

"FUCK!", Hermione shouted at the walls.

The only thing she knew was that she was in Malfoy Manor. She had been there for weeks apparently, but how many?

She laid her head back on the wall but cringed when it made contact with the wound. She ground her teeth together angrily and stared at the plate of stale food next to her. She kicked it hard enough that it flew across the room with a loud clang.


	6. To the Dark Lord

**Song** : Mount Everest - Labrinth

Draco sat at the grungy bar - The Inebriatus - his favorite bar despite the filth. Theo and Blaise sat cross from him while Pansy and Daphne were to his left in the roomy booth. He didn't want to come out tonight, but he'd rather drown out his sorrows than sit at home staring at the portraits of previous Malfoy heirs. He'd do anything to clear his mind of the current state of his life.

"Cheers to this fucking war finally being over", said Theo, and they all raised a glass and drank.

"To not getting anymore of my outfits dirty", said Pansy with a giggle, and they repeated the action.

"To being able to go out in public without being bloody shamed", added Blaise. Cheers, raise a glass, drink, repeat.

"To friendship", Daphne said with a smile. Repeat.

They all turned to stare at Draco and waited for him to keep it going. "To the Dark Lord", he muttered. No-one drank that time except for him.

"That's the best you've got, mate?", Theo asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Of fuck off. To my mother then", he said and emptied his glass, slamming it down on the table. Everyone hesitated.

"To Narcissa Malfoy", Blaise said respectfully, and then they all drank, wearing regretful looks and trying not to stare at Draco.

Their friend was hurt. Badly. Like they had never seen before. And the worst part was that they knew they couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm going to get another - anyone need anything?", Draco asked as he slid out of the booth. They all shook their heads in response and Draco made his way to the bar, stumbling slightly. He had already drank twice the amount his friends had, and in the same time.

"What are we going to do?", Theo asked the group as soon as Draco was out of eyesight.

"Meaning?", Pansy responded.

"Meaning we can't let him just sulk and pout around like this forever," Theo said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"The Dark Lord killed his mother mate, cut him some slack. It's not as if he's been allowed to mourn her. He can't even show that he's upset about it in front of anyone but us", Blaise said.

"Blaise is right. We can't expect him to just get over it and be okay - it hasn't even been two weeks. And we all saw it happen...", Daphne trailed off.

"Do you really think just leaving him be in this state is the best way to help him?", Theo said with a scoff.

"What else can we do Theo? Give him some time. Not all of us have or _had_ shit relationships with our parents", Pansy said to him coldly. They all knew Theo's dad was a terrible man, but he simply pretended Arcturus Nott didn't exist. That man was almost as evil as Bellatrix.

"Shut the fuck up Pansy", Theo shouted and slammed his fists on the table.

"Back the hell up Nott", Daphne said as she stood and shoved a finger into his chest.

"You lot really can't function without me can you?", Draco asked sarcastically with a laugh and set down his drink. They all turned to look at him like deer in headlights.

"What?", he asked angrily after it was clear the conversation came from something about him. Or something he wasn't included in.

"Nothing", they all said in mumbling voices that jumbled together guiltily.

"Right. Well I don't want to invade on your party so I'll see you all when I see you", he said storming off and leaving his drink.

Back at the manor it was painfully silent. The halls were dark and empty, the only light came from the moon seeping in through the windows.

Draco walked up the stairs clumsily, undoing the buttons on his shirt on the way. When he walked into his room, Bopsy instantly apparated. He sighed in frustration, he didn't have the energy or patience for whatever she was about to say.

"Master Malfoy!", she greeted happily.

"Yes?", he asked the house elf.

"Prisoner is wanting to speak with sir tomorrow!", she told him

He stared at her in frustration for a moment - he had forgotten all about Granger living in his dungeon. He began to untie and remove his shoes as he took a seat in the chair near his fireplace. "Alright, thank you Bopsy"

She blushed and disapparated.

How the fuck was he supposed to talk to someone who was a classmate a few months ago, and now was a prisoner in his home?


	7. Master Malfoy

**Song** : Man's World - MARINA

Hermione was picking at a piece of stale bread before getting fed up and throwing it across the room.

The next time Bopsy visited her, she disappeared the plate that Hermione previously tossed across the room and brought her a new plate of food. The same food she had been given for, apparently, weeks now.

A slice of bread, rice, and a glass of water. Tasty.

She knew she had lost a good bit of weight since she got here. Considering all they gave her was a plate full of carbs once a day - that wasn't even edible at that. This didn't surprise her. She could wrap her fingers around her wrists easily and still have space, yet she still refused to eat. She couldn't help but think _maybe if I'm lucky I'll just starve to death_. It would be easier than being here, likely waiting on a death sentence.

She suddenly heard a heavy metal door creak open at the top of the stairs and she froze. She could hear the heels of boots clicking against the stone steps as someone made their way down.

She pressed herself as far back into the corner of the room as she could, wishing she could just disappear into the shadows. But she had nowhere to go.

She knew it wasn't Bopsy because the house elf would simply apparate into the room at any given time.

A pair of long legs walked in and she saw a flash of white-blonde hair in the flickering candlelight. Her breath caught.

The man who entered the room looked shockingly like Lucius. His hair was shorter, slightly ruffled as if it had been slept on. His jaw was sharper, his build slightly leaner, and his eyes were piercing. She couldn't decide if they were blue or silver.

"Hello, Granger", he smirked familiarly. The same smirk she had seen teasing her and her friends since they were 11 years old. The same smirk that she always imagined he had while his wand pointed at Dumbledore with the promise of death. The same smirk that made her skin crawl and her anger boil over.

She grabbed the half empty glass of water and chucked it at him as hard as she could. He dodged it with ease and the glass shattered loudly, its contents pooling on the floor. "Get the hell away from me!", she shouted at Malfoy.

"Take it easy, I believe you were the one who requested to speak with _me_ ", he responded, chuckling at her anger.

"I _requested_ to speak with _Lucius_ ", she said, crossing her arms and leaning back into the corner once again.

"You requested to speak with Master Malfoy, actually", he smirked darkly at her.

She stared at him in shock. Was he? Draco Malfoy was the "master" of the manor now?

He saw the puzzled look on her face and the wheels turning rapidly in her brain before clarifying, "unlike my Mother, Father is still alive. I've taken over as head of the household." His tone betrayed zero emotion.

"Head of the household", she repeated in barely a whisper. What was wrong with Lucius that he could no longer be in charge?

He stared at her, waiting for Hermione to get over her shock. He had no patience for it. He had no patience for anything these days. He cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts, "So are you done wasting my time or is there something you wanted?", he asked, appearing uninterested.

"I...have questions", she stated hesitantly.

Malfoy scoffed, "well I don't have answers so I believe we're done here".

"Wait!", she shouted, almost desperately. He had turned towards the door, but stopped and didn't move when she spoke. "You can't tell me anything?", she asked, genuinely afraid now. They weren't at Hogwarts anymore. He could be planning to kill her for all she knew.

"I'm", she paused and gulped, trying to find whatever dignity she still had, "my back is...", she stopped. It's not like he would care.

Malfoy turned back to her completely and focused his eyes on her. "Nevermind", she said, putting her head in her hands, trying not to cry.

She heard his footsteps clicking across the floor until they stopped right in front of her. She didn't dare move.

"Tell me", he said in a commanding voice. She didn't move.

Suddenly he jerked her upwards by grabbing underneath her arms until she was on her feet. She winced in pain and gave a cry.

"Shit Granger", he said, just now noticing the bruises on her arms and how skinny she was. He hadn't seen them when she was in the shadows. He turned her around and she didn't even fight it. "I'm not going to hurt you, just calm down", he told her and began to lift the back of her shirt, exposing splotches of black and blue all over it.

She laughed through the forming tears in her eyes as if that was the most ridiculous thing she'd heard in her entire life. She felt cold fingertips on her back and she flinched.

"Have you been sleeping on the floor?", he asked without any emotion.

"Yes, because the four poster bed here wasn't to my liking", she retorted.

"I'll have Bopsy bring you clean clothes and give you instructions for tomorrow", Malfoy told her.

"Tomorrow? W-what's tomorrow?", she said, still trying to hold back tears.

Without another word, he pulled her shirt back down. Hermione didn't turn or move until she heard the sound of his shoes disappearing and the heavy door at the top of the stairs opening, shutting, and locking again.

She cried herself to sleep. When she awoke, there was a small cot next to her with two pillows and a thick quilt. There was also a small bathtub now in the room with a rugged towel. The water was lukewarm at best, but it was the first courtesy she had seen in weeks. She quickly slipped off her clothes and carefully lowered herself into the tub.

_What has my life become?_


	8. Astronomy Tower

**Song** : New Person, Same Old Mistakes - Tame Impala

Draco left the dungeon and headed straight for his study, not stopping until there was a bottle of firewhiskey in his hands. He didn't allow himself to think until his body felt warm and his ears were buzzing

Those deep, chestnut eyes haunted his vision. They were broken. Broken because of _him_ , whether he liked it or not.

Why had her back been so bruised? Why was she so thin? He ordered the house elves to feed her and provide whatever she needed - without going beyond what was reasonable of course. Was this reasonable?

No. This is how a mudblood was meant to be treated. That's what he was raised to believe. It was the Dark Lord's will, whether he liked it or not. He didn't have a choice in this.

Why did he care anyway? _Because her friends were dead._

There wasn't anything he could do. _She was alone. Like him._

She would be fine, he was simply doing his duties. _Her eyes were so broken. That familiar fire he saw in her at Hogwarts barely burned anymore. He could see it._

It didn't matter, she was a mudblood. Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, he repeated over and over. _She was human. She was a prisoner in his home. She didn't even have a bed, clean clothes, or any means to bathe._

"Bopsy", he said, and she appeared before he had even finished calling her.

"Master Malfoy calling Bopsy for something?", she said, twirling her fingers around each other.

"Give the mudblood a bathtub, clean clothes, a cot, pillows, and a quilt. She won't be much use to the Dark Lord if she dies down there.", he told her, trying his best not to show the mercy that drove his words.

Bopsy nodded, "Master Malfoy is needing anything else?"

"Yes", he said, "you will escort her to me tomorrow at noon. Make sure she wears the new clothes and that she has bathed. Pull her hair back out of her face, and have her drink this before you take her upstairs", he handed Bopsy a vial of thick red liquid, as dark as blood.

She nodded briefly and then disappeared.

He had to perform the Sanguis Stigma tomorrow. That way, she wouldn't have to be kept down there like it was a cage. He chuckled to himself. As if there were a more accurate term for it.

He had followed all the directions Yaxley provided in his notebook, which was practically falling apart at the seams from all the wear and tear it had endured.

_Sanguis Stigma_

_Preparations:_

_The receiver of the Sanguis Stigma should bathe before the spell is performed._

_The receiver must wear all black for the spell._

_The receiver must drink a vial of the performer's blood**_

_**the performer must bloodlet 3 days before, allowing the blood to sit in the vial for no less than 72 hours; add 2 drops of amortentia, 3 ½ drops veritaserum, 1 ¾ drops of calming draught, 1 ⅔ drops of weakness potion_

It was possibly the most complicated spell Draco had ever seen. Providing his blood, which she had to drink, and having to add in multiple potions? He couldn't imagine how long Yaxley had to have been working on this. He had already added the other necessary ingredients to the vial.

Why would it need to be so complicated? Not to mention that the extra parts were quite literally bits of love, truth, calming, and weakness potion.

The thought made him sick. Manipulating Granger was not the same as teasing her and her friends in their school days. This was much more serious than that.

He gulped down more firewhiskey, letting it burn his throat. This was better than thinking about Granger. Or his mother. Just a bit more and his mind would be clear of them.

He reached into the bottom left drawer of his desk, unlocking it with his wand, and pulled out the Malfoy locket. The one his mother had worn her whole life, the one his grandmother wore before her, and so on.

It was gold in an oval shape with a cursive _M_ carved into it for Malfoy.

Before his mother passed, there bore a photo of his father on the right, and Draco on the left. The locket had been in the Malfoy family for centuries, and it was enchanted to show who the owner of the locket loved most in the world.

Now that his mother was gone, there was nothing in it. A tear fell from his eye and landed on the locket. He quickly wiped it off, put it back in its velvet green pouch, and locked it back inside the drawer.

Draco's mother used to tell him, "One day you'll fall in love, and the lucky girl will have this as her own. She squeezed him tightly and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Just make sure you give it to someone who deserves you, my dear", she told him with a smile and rosy cheeks.

If only she could see him now. Just as broken as Granger, though he may not look that way. He never wanted to give the locket to anyone. Never wanted to see it on anyone else. He'd never even marry anyone if it was up to him. If it was _truly_ up to him, he'd head straight to Hogwarts and launch himself off the astronomy tower without hesitation.


	9. Pig for the slaughter

**Song** : One Way Or Another - Until The Ribbon Breaks

After drying off with the towel Hermione was given, water still dripped from her damp hair, leaving her freezing in the unheated dungeon. Making her way across the cold, hard floor was like walking on ice just to get to her clean clothes.

Bopsy had informed her that she was required to bathe this morning, despite the fact that she had done so the night before. She supposed one bath in weeks must not have been enough to rid the stench of dirt and blood from her hair, skin, and under her nails.

She began to dress in the clothes Bopsy had brought her. A black jumper, leggings, and black socks that came just above her ankles. No shoes. She supposed she didn't need them anyway - it wasn't like she could run anywhere. There wasn't anywhere to go...

Bopsy had taken her old and worn trainers days ago, which had been falling apart at the seams, leaving her barefoot - her toes turning blue if they weren't under the quilt on her cot.

There was no comb or brush, so Hermione softly dragged her fingers through her curls to rid them of as many tangles as she could.

When Bopsy appeared again, she told her to put her hair up. "What for?", she asked her.

"Bopsy is not to be answering questions for prisoner! Bopsy cannot! She-", Hermione cut her off.

"Okay, okay, I'm doing it", she tried not to roll her eyes. _It's not her fault_ she tried to remind herself. Bopsy handed her a black scrunchie, _why all black?_ She swept her curls into a loose ponytail that swung against her back.

"Prisoner is to drink this!", Bopsy said, handing her a vial of deep red liquid. She cringed. The vial was oddly warm, _blood?_

"Bopsy, what is-", she could barely get the words out before Bopsy went into a frenzy all over again. She ran around the room in circles sobbing.

"B-bopsy c-c-cannot! S-she c-can't! Bopsy-", Hermione grabbed the elf by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'll drink it. Just stop crying", she told her. Bopsy sniffled and wiped away the remaining tears, staring at Hermione hopefully.

Hermione pulled the stopper out of the vial and smelled it - iron, parchment, lavender, and, peppermint? She couldn't place everything. It was undoubtedly a potion of some sort. But none she had ever come across.

With hesitation and shaky hands, she downed the potion in one gulp, choking on the thick, warm liquid and cringing at the taste that the odd mixture left on her tongue.

Bopsy grabbed her hand, "it is time! Bopsy is to-", Hermione cut her off, "yes, I know." Bopsy frowned, but continued holding her hand and led her up the stairs, unlocking the door with magic when they finally reached it. She was finally leaving the dungeon. Finally.

~~~

After going up many sets of stairs, Bopsy knocked on a dark, oak door before turning the knob and opening it.

"Bopsy is bringing the mublood to Master Malfoy!", she greeted Malfoy excitedly.

"Thank you Bops", he called her. _A nickname? Interesting._

Bopsy waved goodbye to Hermione - she wanted to hate Bopsy for calling her "mudblood" and "prisoner", but she simply couldn't. She had a good heart.

Malfoy gestured for her to take a seat next to the table he stood at. It had clearly been positioned there for her. As soon as she sat, ropes shot out and bound her wrists and ankles to the seat.

"Surely this isn't necessary! Do you truly insist on being such an insufferable _git_ all the while knowing very well that I won't resist? It's not as if I have my wand or anything!", she shouted at him, struggling against the ropes.

He didn't acknowledge her. Had barely looked at her if at all, since she entered the room. There was a tattered journal open in front of him, littered with chicken scratch writing. How could he even read that?

"Oh, so it isn't enough for me to sit in solitary confinement all day and night, now you force me to sit here, tied up, while you refuse to speak?", she was furious. They were former classmates. Was he as evil as they always thought? All she wanted was to wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze until his cold eyes popped out of his skull. _Merlin, that was a dark thought even for her._

But she couldn't help it. As far as she was concerned, he was responsible for this. The outcome of the war. All the dead. Even for his dead mother. He deserved all of it. He stood by and aided Voldemort, and now Hermione was here because of it.

In a sudden burst of anger she spat at his feet.

He disappeared the liquid from his shoe without so much as a glance. She huffed in frustration.

She began to look at the table. Aside from the journal, there was a cauldron bubbling - the aroma of charcoal, and - iron? Again?

"What is that?", she demanded. "What the hell did you make me drink?"

Finally he pulled a knife from the table and began to walk towards her. Her blood went cold. She felt the color drain from her face. All of this for what? Just to kill her now? Slit her throat as she bled out in this chair, in his home? She wished she would've died at Bellatrix's hand that night. It would've been easier.

He paused, glancing at the scar that read "mudblood" on her forearm. She couldn't read his expression. But she couldn't show her emotion either - she would deflect.

"Come to give me a matching scar on the other arm have you?", she narrowed her eyes at him. His eyes looked dark, focused, as if he was trying to push something to the back of his mind.

He placed one hand to steady her wrist where she was shaking, and used the other to place a small slit over the throbbing veins. She winced and cried out as he held up a new vial to collect the blood escaping from under her skin.

He filled the vial about halfway with her blood, before slicing his own wrist, and filling the rest of the vial with his own. _Mixing pureblood and mudblood? The irony._ She almost snorted.

He poured the vial into the cauldron and it roared loudly, emitting a puff of red smoke in the shape of a dragon. She stared at it in awe.

He ladled some of the potion into the goblet and strode back across the room to her. His eyes finally met hers and she looked at him challengingly. "There are easier ways of poisoning me, Malfoy."

"Believe me Granger, if I had any, it certainly wouldn't be wasted on you", he retorted with an uncomfortably stoic face. _What the hell did that mean?_

He held the goblet up to her lips and she quirked a brow, refusing to open her lips.

"For once in your life can you just not be so bloody insufferable?", he said angrily, staring into her eyes with daggers.

She stared back with daggers of her own. "Insufferable? Funny coming from you", she said, pressing her lips together tightly.

Without warning, his left hand shot up to grip her chin hard, fingers wrapping around her throat. The rings on his fingers were icy cold against the skin on her neck and jaw. His silver eyes bore into hers, sending an unfamiliar chill up her spine.

"I tried to do this nicely but make no mistake, I get what I want, and not even _you_ can get in the way of that Granger. Now open wide, or I'll _make_ you", he said with a growl.

She gulped hard with fear and obediently opened her mouth, allowing him to pour the contents of the goblet into it. His eyes remained on hers until she had drank every last drop. "Good girl", he told her, turning to grab his wand from the table.

There was a strange stirring in her stomach and she didn't like it. She attributed it to the unidentified potion she just downed.

He walked to her side until he was standing next to her, focused with his wand on her left bicep. She didn't dare turn her head.

He began waving his wand in strange patterns she didn't recognize, and began to speak in what sounded like latin.

A sudden pain shot through her entire body and she cried out in response. It lit up with a red light - blood red - and appeared to make a path cohesively and slowly to her left arm where Malfoy's wand was pointed.

She felt a knife begin to dig into her arm and she gasped, turning sharply as much as she could while tied to the chair, to look at him. She was shocked to see he was still chanting and waving his wand, sweat forming at his brow, with an almost pained expression on his face.

She redirected her gaze to her left upper-arm and stared in shock as some invisible force carved into it, letting blood flow freely. It glowed in the dim room, as red as her blood, which she was sure was a surprise for Malfoy that it wasn't as brown as mud. She would have laughed if she wasn't in so much pain.

When his spell appeared to be finished, the wound stopped bleeding, leaving what appeared to be a blood-red dragon, wrapped all the way around her bicep like a cuff or tattoo. The same dragon that appeared to have come from the potion's smoke earlier.

"Tell me how you feel", he said hesitantly.

"I feel like I just got bloody carved into like a piece of wood! How the hell do you _think_ I feel?", she shouted.

He nodded slowly, strangely, as if pondering something.

He subsequently called for Bopsy to lead her her back to the dungeons but she planted her feet hard into the ground once her bindings were removed.

"Wait!", he stared at her, waiting, "I...please. At least tell me...how long it's been", she begged.

He paused for a moment but then responded flatly, "Almost three weeks.".

Her bottom lip quivered. Almost three weeks since she watched Harry die. Since they lost. She nodded softly and then turned to go with Bopsy, the house elf's hand hanging in the air, waiting for her to grasp it.

And now she was branded. Like a possession. Like a pig for the slaughter.


	10. Expectations

**Song** : Devil's Advocate - The Neighborhood

Draco sat at the Death Eater table, feeling much better about his poker face today. His friends kept looking at him from their seats. He refused to meet his their eyes, but could feel gazes on him regardless.

"Tell me Draco, how is Lucius?", the Dark Lord's voice slithered into his ear from behind him.

He was pacing around the table - _circling his prey_ \- and had been for the last hour. He clearly was feeling antsy, having not killed anyone in, what, three days? He must be having withdrawals from his deadly addiction.

"Useless, my Lord. More so than before, if you would believe it", he told the Dark Lord coldly. His friends stared hatefully at him, shocked, but trying to hide it.

The Dark Lord chuckled in a way that sounded like gravel ringing out against a chalkboard - scraping past the ears of everyone at the table.

"It doesn't surprise me that he is struggling with this new disability. He's always proved to be dissatisfactory, and yet, I need him", everyone had been chuckling at the insults thrown about Lucius, but suddenly the room was quiet and still.

"He will return in November - I'm sure you'll have no problem keeping him updated and of sound mind, Draco?", he stated, stopping again behind Draco's chair and halting his infinite stalk around the table.

"Of course, my Lord", Draco told him, not moving a muscle.

The rest of their meeting was dreadful. Just as Draco suspected, the Dark Lord was bored. Needing a hit of violence to fuel his addiction. He dug around until he finally found something to lash out at. Unfortunately, that something was Theo.

Theo cried out as the third Cruciatus hit him. Not a soul at the table dared to look in his direction. It was out of their hands.

"I trust next time you won't make the same mistake, Theodore", the Dark Lord stated, putting his wand away and stroking Nagini lovingly. If he was capable of love. It wasn't likely. Admiration was a better term for it.

Theo nodded as best as he could, but he was still struggling from the after effects of the curse. "You will deploy to Romania immediately. Everyone else is dismissed", the Dark Lord said with a wave of his grey, spidery hand.

Everyone rose from their chairs and departed with urgency. Draco finally met Theo's eyes and gave him a sorrowful look on his way out. _I wish I could help_ , he tried to tell him wordlessly.

 _Nothing you could've done, mate_ , Theo said with his eyes. Draco gave a brief nod and left.

~~~

Draco was focusing hard on Yaxley's journal laid out in front of him when a light knock came from the door.

"Bopsy is bringing the mublood to Master Malfoy!", Bopsy said to him.

"Thank you Bops", Draco responded. She had always been his favorite house elf. The kindest and most caring of them. Of course, they were slaves, so he couldn't fault the other house elves for any distaste they had towards the Malfoy family.

Draco saw Bopsy wave goodbye to Granger - _too caring for her own good_ , he thought, and continued double-checking his work in the cauldron to his right.

Granger sat in the chair he gestured towards and he cast a quick spell to bind her to it. He wasn't in the mood for a struggle. Fight. Argument. Whatever came from what he was about to do, he didn't want it to be any more difficult than need be.

"Surely this isn't necessary! Do you truly insist on being such an insufferable _git_ all the while knowing very well that I won't resist. It's not as if I have my wand or anything!", she shouted at him, struggling against the ropes.

He didn't even flinch. _How predictable of her_.

"Oh, so it isn't enough for me to sit in solitary confinement all day and night, now you force me to sit here, tied up, while you refuse to speak?", she was clearly furious. He could practically feel her eyes carving holes into him. He remained focused on the spell.

He heard her spit and it landed on the toe of his left shoe - he waved a hand to disappear it. _Is that all you've got?_ He almost chuckled, almost.

"What is that?", she demanded, clearly referring to the setup in front of him. "What the hell did you make me drink?" _You don't want to know, Granger_.

He picked up the blade that lay above the journal and made his way toward her, looking at her for the first time since she walked in. He was convinced at this point that she was refusing her food. _Stubborn little brat_.

He paused, glancing at the scar that read "mudblood" on her forearm, but quickly shook it off and proceeded.

"Come to give me a matching scar on the other arm have you?", she narrowed her eyes at him. He ignored it, but his ears were flooded with her screams from that night. He pushed the memory away.

He placed one hand on her wrist to steady it, she was shaking violently. He used the other to slice her wrist as delicately as he could, and began to collect the blood from her wrist.

He filled the vial about halfway with her blood, before slicing his own wrist, and filling the rest of the vial with his own. _Mixing pureblood and mudblood? The irony._ He almost laughed.

He poured the vial into the cauldron and it roared loudly, emitting a puff of red smoke in the shape of a dragon. _Interesting._

He ladled some of the potion into the goblet and strode back across the room to her. His eyes finally met hers and she looked at him challengingly. "There are easier ways of poisoning me, Malfoy."

"Believe me Granger, if I had any, it certainly wouldn't be wasted on you", he retorted. _Does_ _she really think_ _I_ _want_ _to be doing this? Merlin,_ _I_ _would've killed_ _myself_ _long before now if it was truly an option. 'Smartest witch of our age' my arse. For such a book-smart witch, she_ _can_ _be dimmer than a burnt-out lightbulb._

He held the goblet up to her lips and she quirked a brow, refusing to part them.

"For once in your life can you just not be so bloody insufferable?", he said angrily, staring into her eyes. _Stubborn_ _is_ _an understatement._

"Insufferable? Funny coming from you", she said, pressing her lips together tightly. He rolled his eyes.

Draco grabbed her chin with his left hand, tightly, fingers wrapping around her throat.

"I tried to do this nicely but make no mistake, I get what I want, and not even _you_ can get in the way of that Granger. Now open wide, or I'll _make_ you", he said with a growl. _Did she always have to make his life so bloody difficult?_

Finally, she opened her mouth and allowed him to pour the potion into it. His eyes remained on hers until she had drank every last drop. "Good girl", he told her, turning to grab his wand from the table. _Now that wasn't so hard, was it?_

He grabbed his wand from the table and stood next to her, focusing on her left bicep.

He began waving his wand the way Yaxley's journal instructed, repeating the Latin over and over.

She suddenly cried out in pain and her entire body emitted a red light. It began to make its way towards where his wand was trained on her arm.

She gasped, turning sharply as much as she could while tied to the chair, to look at him. His focus didn't falter. The spell wasn't over yet, and bloody hell this might have been the most difficult spell he had ever performed.

Her arm began to bleed, as if someone was carving into it. It reminded him painfully of the night his Aunt permanently branded "mudblood" on Granger's arm. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and continued. The mark glowed and wrapped around her arm, leaving a blood-red dragon encircling it. The same dragon that appeared to have come from the potion's smoke earlier.

"Tell me how you feel", he said hesitantly. _Did it work?_

"I feel like I just got bloody carved into like a piece of wood! How the hell do you _think_ I feel?", she shouted at him. _It definitely worked._

He nodded slowly, wondering just how strong the spell was. Would she really do anything he said? It was probably better that she didn't know what the spell did. He certainly wasn't going to tell her. He really didn't plan on using it at all, unless he had no other choice.

He called for Bopsy to lead Granger back to the dungeons but she planted her feet hard into the ground once her bindings were removed.

"Wait!", she shouted at him, "I...please. At least tell me...how long it's been", she begged.

He knew what she meant _. Fuck._ Draco paused for a moment but then responded flatly, "Almost three weeks."

Her bottom lip quivered. She nodded softly and then turned to go with Bopsy, the house elf's hand hung in the air, waiting for her to grasp it.

Once the door closed behind them, he collapsed in the seat Granger had sat in. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He tried to breathe but couldn't find any air. Water gathered in his eyes so he squeezed them tight.

_The spell had worked. Why did it have to bloody work? It was only a matter of time until he abused this power, whether accidental or deliberately - of that he was certain._

The expectations Draco had for himself were poor at this point. He opened his eyes and harshly wiped the tears away. All he could see when he closed his eyes for the past 3 weeks was his mother. But now, it was accompanied by that damned Sanguis Stigma on Granger's arm, carved with his blood and hers, on the same arm that read "mudblood". He may as well never sleep again.


	11. Blinded

**Song** : Lay All Your Love On Me (slowed and reverb) - Putin's Bird

Hermione was sitting on her cot, braiding her hair. She hated braiding her hair. She just ended up with a frizzy tail coming out of her head. But she was _that_ bored.

Her left arm was still sore from the fresh wound on it. She wasn't sure if it would heal or not - it didn't appear to be doing so. It hadn't scabbed over, but it had stopped bleeding.

She pulled her sleeve up to study it. She softly ran her index finger over the dragon that wrapped around her arm. Just like a carving, there were deep indentions from the mark. She had never seen anything like it before, and not knowing anything about it was driving her mad.

"It is being a good evening, prisoner?", Bopsy asked her, popping in. Hermione was used to it, she didn't even flinch. She had zero privacy really.

"Evening?", she laughed out loud. Bopsy wore a confused expression, clearly not getting it. There were no windows in the dungeon. It could be 11pm or 2am at any given point, and Hermione would have no idea.

"I mean", Hermione cleared her throat, "Good evening Bopsy." _What brings you to my cave?_

Bopsy smiled, "Master Malfoy says you is to make yourself useful!"

Hermione scoffed, "Make myself _useful?_ " _Git._

"Prisoner is to read the Daily Prophet to Master Malfoy at 6pm everyday now!", she squeaked happily.

Hermione choked on the water she had just taken a sip of. " _Draco?_ ", she emphasized the question.

Bopsy shook her head, twiddling her fingers as if she wasn't allowed to directly answer her question. Oh, right.

"Erm...", she thought for a moment. _No way. No fucking way._ "Lucius?", her voice squeaked, almost as high as Bopsy's did.

Bopsy nodded. "And...the time now is?", Hermione hesitated.

"Oh! It is being time now! Mudblood is to go with Bopsy now to make herself useful!", she said happily, reaching for Hermione's hand.

Hermione sighed, but took Bopsy's hand, allowing the elf to guide her up the stairs to another part of the manor she was yet to see. _Wait, why did she need to read to Lucius? As far as she knew he wasn't illiterate._ She chuckled at the thought.

Bopsy knocked on the door they came to. This one was in a different part of the house than the room where she received the dragon mark.

The elf slowly opened the door, revealing what appeared to be a study - Lucius's study.

He sat stiff and straight, as if a rod was run up his spine. He held his usual snake-headed ornamental cane in his right hand, despite being seated. _Well that's odd._

"Thank you Bopsy", Lucius drawled without looking in their direction. _Like father, like son._ Bopsy disapparated and her breath hitched when she realized she was standing alone in a room with Lucius Malfoy.

She stood there silently, taking in his appearance. His light blonde locks were thinner on his head since she last saw him, his skin paler, and the bags under his eyes were heavy - almost purple.

She looked at his eyes, staring lifelessly straight ahead of him. His pupils appeared unfocused and oddly empty. The blue of his eyes was paler than she remembered...

 _Oh my God. Oh my God._ She gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. He chuckled darkly. "Are you waiting on a formal invitation?", he asked.

"F-for what?", she stuttered.

"To have a seat and do what you came here to do. My son insisted the 'prisoner' we are housing would be 'updating' me on events - daily", he told her. She swore the snake's head on his cane was staring at her with its deep, slytherin green eyes. She shivered.

She hastily walked over and took the seat in front of his desk, barely perching on the edge, shaking. Her hand went to the "mudblood" written on her arm. Seeing Lucius this close brought the memories back, she could feel the tip of Bellatrix's blade in her arm...

She unconsciously slid her hand up her arm, away from the scar, and closer to the red dragon. She suddenly felt slightly warmer. More steady, and less dizzy.

Her breathing steadied and she looked up, meeting Lucius's empty gaze. "A-are you...um", she hesitated.

"Yes, I am blind. Should I congratulate you on your base-level observation skills?", he snickered, lifting the corner of his lip ever so slightly. Hauntingly like his son. Or his son was hauntingly like him, she supposed.

_Blind, and as infuriating as ever. And she would see him everyday at 6pm for the foreseeable future. Lovely._

"Is there something I can call you other than 'prisoner'? It feels terribly demeaning, don't you agree my dear?", he chuckled darkly.

Hermione clenched her jaw in response. _Did he not realize who she was...? Had Malfoy not told him?_ If he was speaking to her this way, and _didn't_ know who she was, she didn't want to see what would happen if he _did_.

"Er...Monica", she stated. _My Mum. Oh Merlin, I missed my parents._ She fought hard not to start crying for what was surely the hundredth time since the Battle of Hogwarts, and now she had to be called Monica everyday. What was wrong with her?

"Well, _Monica_ ", he laughed softly, _was that a funny name or something?_ "As you can see, I cannot," he chuckled darkly, "so let's get on with it shall we? I believe there should be a Daily Prophet from today on the desk."

She reached for the paper, unfolded it, and began reading aloud. She almost scoffed when she saw most of the articles were written by Rita Skeeter. _Of course she's writing propogandistic headlines for the Head Snake himself._

When she finished reading what was, in her opinion, absolutely nothing of interest, Lucius called for Bopsy to retrieve her. She left with the elf, without another word passing between her and Lucius.

"Where are we going?", Hermione asked Bopsy when she realized they were heading to the west side of the manor, rather than down to the dungeon.

"To see Master Malfoy!", she squeaked excitedly. She huffed. _Godric - what now?_

They entered a room that appeared to be a mirror image of Lucius's study, but this one was Malfoy's.

He was seated at a desk with the fireplace crackling behind him, his eyes trained on the papers in front of him. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, the top 3 buttons undone revealing his pale chest, and a glass of firewhiskey with half-melted ice sat on his desk.

His hair appeared ruffled, as if he had been running his fingers through it stressfully.

"Thank you Bops", he greeted the elf. Bopsy smiled and left the room.

He stared at her wordlessly. She started to grow angry. "What, am I supposed to curtsy when I enter a room now?"

He laughed, a genuine, real laugh. The first time she had ever seen one come from him. It was eerily comforting. "Tell me about your time with my father today", he said, standing and walking around to lean against the fireplace, staring into it. So she did. She told him everything as if they were far closer than they actually were. But what did it matter? He probably had ways of knowing everything that was said and done in the manor anyway.

He nodded slowly when she finished speaking. She waited. "You will report to me here, in my study, after you read to my father, and tell me everything you observed, discussed, etcetera."

She snorted. "Okay", her voice was even but she rolled her eyes. The dragon on her arm suddenly felt warm. Speaking of dragons...

"What is this? Is it permanent? What does it do?", she began spitting out questions at him, yanking her sleeve up to show the dragon. He ignored her and strode back over to his desk, taking his seat and getting back to work as if she wasn't there.

"You made me _drink your blood_. I have the right to know what the hell this is for you fucking _sadist_!", she demanded, stomping her foot and crossing her arms. "You know if I had my wand I'd curse you without hesitation", she told him daringly.

"Well unfortunately love, you don't", he said, making a fake sad face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You really can't even have the decency to tell me what you've _branded_ me with?", she asked him.

"Don't waste tears over a _tattoo_ , Granger. You looked dehydrated as it is", he told her, "Go back to the dungeon."

She felt her blood boiling, but she suddenly didn't have the energy to fight with him. What a waste of time. _Screw it._ She marched away and straight down to the dungeon, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

She froze on the spot. She turned and yanked at the door hard, but it wouldn't budge.

 _Why did she do that?_ Maybe she couldn't have escaped but she could've...snooped around? Something. _Anything_ but going right back into her cage. And yet, that's what she had willingly done.

She marched down the rest of the stairs angrily and ran a bath. She spent half the time with her head under the water, holding her breath for as long as she could. Wishing she had the willpower to just drown herself.


	12. That's all

**Song** : Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - Arctic Monkeys

Draco was at his desk, the fire behind him barely burning anymore. His firewhiskey was watered down at this point, and Granger had just left. After he made her. _Commanded_ her. Merlin, it had only been one day, and he was using it.

But there was something that burned inside of him when he saw that fire in her eyes. That fire she had always had - from the day he met her. It was dim most days, but she had her moments still.

His body was warm from the firewhiskey. He leaned his head against his hand, toying with his hair. He found himself imagining it was _her_ hair. The brunette curls flowing down her back. If only he could reach out and grab them with his fist, pulling it back so he could see those eyes. Those eyes that were haunted, and yet, still burned wildly.

 _Sweet Merlin_ he was drunk. It had been quite a while since he'd shagged anyone. But he hadn't had any desire in quite a while either. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like... _no_. He shook his thoughts away once again.

He slouched in his chair, leaning his head back, knees spreading wide for the hardness growing between his legs. He imagined her face there, between his knees, her mouth on that same hardness...

His eyes shot open. He grabbed the glass and tossed it into the fire, glass shards flying every which way, the fire flaring from the alcohol it was attacked with. He ran his hands over the back of his neck. _Merlin it's hot in this fucking room_. He pulled his shirt up over his head and paced the room frantically.

_Get out of my head._

He couldn't even close his eyes. His vision flickered between the mark on her arm, and Granger on top of him. The red dragon on her arm, and him on top of her, moaning his name. He could almost hear it - _Draco, please_ \- rolling off her tongue lustfully.

He was painfully hard now. The mark on her arm was all wrong...but...

Something about the Sanguis Stigma made him feel...possessive? Protective?

He gripped the desk, fingers digging into the wood so hard that he was sure he was bruising them, and it still didn't distract his thoughts.

Was this because of the potion? It had to be. It created a connection between the two of them, tethering her to him, and him to her? It hadn't clarified that, or even mentioned it at all.

_It's just the potion. The spell. Yaxley's shite spell. That's all._

He never noticed the curve of her hips before, her breasts, her arse...he wanted to run his fingers over them, feel her skin, possess it, mark her as his. She _was_ marked as his. And he liked it. Loved it.

_Just the spell. That's all. That's all. That's all._

It was simply nice to have something to claim after all this. Something untainted by evil. By the Dark Lord.

_The spell. That's all._

She was his.

_Spell. That's all. Spell. That's all._

Draco punched the wall as hard as he could, trying to rid himself of this tension - this frustration, leaving a hole the size of his fist. His knuckles were bloody and turning black. He punched another hole. And another. And another.

With shaking hands, he took his wand from his pocket and fixed the holes in the wall. He ignored his injured knuckles, freely bleeding, dripping onto the black floor, leaving so many red droplets that they began to puddle.

 _That's all. That's all._ He chanted it over and over in his head.

Was he going mad? He hated her. _Did he?_ Yes, he did. He hated Potter. And Weaselbee. And Granger too. She was a mudblood. He was a pureblood. He was superior.

_His blood ran somewhere in her veins. Inside her._

Her hair looked like an untamed bush. She was scrawny and underfed, at no fault of his own. She was stubborn. She was intolerable. She was beautiful.

"FUCK!", he screamed.

 _At least I don't care for her. I'm just starved for attention. For touch. I haven't slept with anyone in months - years?_ Merlin, he was wound so tight.And she was the only person in his life that wasn't hounding him about his mother. Hadn't even mentioned it.

Fuck it. One time. _That's all_ , he told himself. He'd be fine after that. He was only sexually attracted to her because it was convenient. _That's all_.

Resigned to what he wanted, knowing he would only be in pain if he denied himself - _just this once_ \- he marched towards his room, locking the door behind him.

He undid his belt, and pulled it from the loops of his pants, making a loud _ZIP_ as it unthreaded.

He quickly undid his pants button, tugged at the zipper, and yanked his pants down. His hardness tented against his boxers and he groaned. _Fuck it_ , he said to himself again. _One time, that's all_.

He shucked his boxers and marched towards the shower, turning it up to a scalding temperature.

_That's all._


	13. Milk or Honey

Song: July - Noah Cyrus

Two months had gone by painfully slow.

Two months of spending the day in the dungeon, reading the paper to Lucius Malfoy, reporting to his son, and then going back to the dungeon again. Every day she asked Malfoy the same questions when she reported to him, and every day he refused to answer them.

She barely ate one meal a day - the food was horrendous. _Maybe she'd just starve_. That would certainly be one way to spite Malfoy. Him keeping her there for months, just for her to starve herself. The thought entertained her.

On July 31st, Hermione sat in the same chair, across the same desk, from the same _blind_ Lucius Malfoy. It was still strange.

She read the headline out, not even noticing the date beforehand - she had stopped keeping track really.

"Today, we celebrate what would have been the birthday of the Dark Lord's greatest accomplishment, the execution of H-harry-", she paused. Her lip trembled and she sucked in a sharp breath. _Today is Harry's birthday. Today would have been Harry's birthday._

Visions of birthday cakes, presents, and celebrations at the Burrow flooded her memory and a silent tear trailed down her cheek. She wasn't even breathing anymore. She was quivering in her chair. Digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

Lucius cleared his throat.

She had completely forgotten where she was. She sniffled, but scolded herself internally about it. "I apologize it-", she paused, noticing the pale hand reaching toward her with a tissue.

"It appears my allergies are acting up - I apologize", she finished quietly.

"Understandable", he said with zero emotion present, gesturing towards her again with the tissue, urging her to take it.

She softly accepted it from his hand, and thanked him, blowing her nose as quietly as possible.

"I'm not interested in old news", Lucius said with a wave of the hand that wasn't holding his staff, "skip to the next section".

She nodded, "yes", she added quickly, remembering he couldn't see her non-verbal response.

"Draco Malfoy announced...new Minister of Magic?", she said in surprise.

Lucius appeared to be grinding his teeth together, deep in thought. She continued through the rest of the article, her thoughts lingering on Harry all the while.

Before she moved on to the next section of the Daily Prophet, Lucius stopped her, "I've grown quite tired of Skeeter's regurgitated work. Bopsy!", he called.

"Master Malfoy!", she popped into the room.

"Escort... _Monica_ to the library, show her Section N", he instructed Bopsy. She wore a confused expression. "The prisoner", he clarified.

"Yes, Master Malfoy!", she squeaked.

Turning towards Hermione, he said "Find the book titled 'Winters of Wimberly', and bring it back. I believe it will be much more interesting for the both of us."

"Okay", she responded, and allowed Bopsy to lead her by the hand. She couldn't even focus on the book she was sent to find. _Winters of...Winchester? Wimbledon? No, Wimberly? Something like that._

Her jaw dropped when Bopsy pushed open the double oakwood doors with golden knobs, revealing the most elegant library she had ever seen.

There were books all around the room with sliding ladders to reach those that were higher up. A large, round table was placed in the center of the room.

There were stairs on both the left and right sides of the room, leading to the upper-portions of the library. There had to be thousands and thousands of books there. She was almost salivating at the thought.

Hermione snapped out of her trance when she noticed Bopsy walking towards the left set of stairs. She quickly caught up to her.

Godric she felt so guilty, basking in the glory that was the Malfoy library, when today was Harry's birthday. She bit her cheek hard to prevent more tears. _Happy Birthday, Harry. I hope you're somewhere better, a world more deserving of you._ She wrung her hands shakily.

"Section N!", Biopsy chirped after they climbed the stairs and walked into a small alcove in the back left corner. All the books in this section appeared to be thoroughly taken care of, but clearly had all been read many times.

She began scanning the rows of gold-embossed books in various colored bindings: scarlet, violet, mossy-green, sapphire.

Her trailing finger stopped on the sapphire book that read "Winters of Wimberly" in cursive, gold embossment. Written by Carolus Crawford. She had never heard of this author. _Must be a wizard author._

She pulled the book from its slot and delicately ran her fingers over the spine of it, admiring the lack of silly artwork that often graced the covers of muggle books.

When Hermione walked back into Lucius's study, Winters of Wimberly in hand, there was a tray on the desk with two porcelain cups.

"I assume milk or honey will suffice for your tea", Lucius stated. _Now she was reading novels and having tea with Lucius Malfoy? How bizarre._

After two cups of tea, she was quite tired, just then finishing the tenth chapter of the book:

"The snow on the ground was a hideous ashen color, doing no favors for the already decaying courtyard. What normally was a beautiful, white snow decorating the grounds, was now grey, all too fitting for Adelia's death."

"That will do for today", Lucius stated as she finished. She softly closed the book, laying it on the desk before standing from her chair.

"Thank you...for the tea Mr. Malfoy", she told him quietly.

"Lucius, my dear", he corrected, "we'll continue from where we left off tomorrow evening."

Without another word, she left Lucius's study and made her way across the manor to its twin in the west wing.

She knocked before opening the door, Malfoy staring down at his desk, looking distraught and stressed as usual. As he did everyday.

She told him everything that happened that evening, following the same routine, but for the first time in two months, Malfoy looked up at her when the words "Winters of Wimberly" escaped her lips.

Hermione's face turned pink in surprise. When he didn't say anything, she continued, telling him they had tea and read about ten chapters.

His expression was unreadable, and when she finished speaking, he looked back down and dismissed her.

As usual, it was almost habit that she asked him before leaving, "Why am I here?", and for the first time in two months, he responded.

"Surprisingly, you still serve a purpose for the Dark Lord. He just doesn't need you _yet_."

Her blood ran cold. "What does that mean?", she was genuinely curious, and more horrified than anything.

"I've already given you more information than you deserve", he said, eyes still on the documents in front of him.

"Than I _deserve?_ ", she huffed. "I _deserve_ much more than you've given me _Malfoy_ ", she said with a growl. "You are absolutely the most loathsome creature on this earth apart from your sadistic ' _Lord'_ ".

She marched out of the room and back to the dungeon, completely oblivious to the small smirk that crept over Malfoy's lips.


	14. Still Burning

**Song** : Trouble's Coming - Royal Blood

"To the new Minister of Magic!", Pansy raised her glass and shouted over the loud music at the Inebriatus. Everyone seemed to be celebrating Draco's new position of power - except him.

Pansy dropped a kiss to Draco's cheek and he smiled as genuinely as he could manage. Daphne averted her eyes.

Blaise and Daphne raised their glasses as well, offering their congratulations. The table went quiet, everyone else in the bar seeming to have a great time, excluding the group of friends.

"I miss Theo", Daphne said, taking a sip of her cocktail. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Has anyone heard from him?", Pansy asked. They all looked at Draco, as if being Minister of Magic meant he now knew any more than they did. He shrugged.

The two girls redirected their attention to Blaise, implying the same question they posed to Draco.

"He sent me an owl about a week ago, said he missed us all and that Romania is dreadfully boring. He's convinced the Dark Lord just sent him there to get him away from his father. Putting the two of them in a room together is like planting a bomb."

"At least he's far, far away from that piece of shit that somehow contributed to his existence. Nott Sr. can go to hell as far as I'm concerned.", Pansy downed her drink.

Draco finished his drink and stood from the booth.

"Going somewhere?", Blaise asked him, "It's only 11, has being the Minister of Magic turned you into an old man?"

Pansy and Daphne both chuckled.

"Ha ha ha. I have work to do, you know, being the Minister of Magic and all", he told them, not even cracking a smile.

Daphne, Blaise, and Pansy all stared at him silently. They were trying to make light of the situation, Draco knew that. But they all knew he didn't want this position. He was sure they were just glad he wasn't moping about his mother's death anymore.

"I'm tired. I don't mean to be snappy", he told them regretfully. Pansy placed a hand over his, "It's okay Draco, we understand." He gave them a stiff smile and took the floo home.

~~~

Draco sat at his desk, looking through forms and documents as part of his new position. How lively. It had only been fifteen minutes when Granger walked in.

Draco didn't look up from his desk, he never did. But it was odd that she was just now reporting to him, considering how late it was.

She told him everything that happened that evening, following the same routine, barely paying any attention to her, when he heard the words "Winters of Wimberly". That was his mother's favorite book. _His father had sent her to retrieve and read that book to him?_

He looked up, meeting those fire-lit eyes, and a blush spread across her cheeks. It sent a heat to his pants that didn't surprise him - he ignored it like he always did.

When she finally finished describing the evening, he dismissed her and refocused on the papers spread out across his desk. Well, not entirely refocused. He knew what was coming next.

"Why am I here?", she asked him.

"Surprisingly, you still serve a purpose for the Dark Lord. He just doesn't need you _yet_.", the words slipped past Draco's lips before he could stop them. _I'm just sick of being asked the same question that only holds a disappointing answer for you._

Her breath hitched audibly, "What does that mean?" _For fuck's sake, can't she just be pleased that I finally answered her?_

"I've already given you more information than you deserve", he said, eyes still on the documents in front of him.

"Than I _deserve?_ ", she huffed. "I _deserve_ much more than you've given me _Malfoy_ ", she said with a growl. "You are absolutely the most loathsome creature on this earth apart from your sadistic _Lord_ ".

She marched straight out of the room.

Draco couldn't stop the small smirk creeping across his lips - he almost laughed. _There's that fire, Granger. Still burning._


	15. With Love

**Song** : Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine

For the next week, Hermione scanned the papers for herself, but Lucius wasn't interested. Instead, she read "Winters of Wimberly" to him each day. It really was a splendid story, maybe even a new favorite of hers.

She finished the last line, "despite all they had been through - life, death, love, hate - nothing had been as difficult, nor as beautiful, as their Winters in Wimberly."

She turned the page, noticing something hand-written there:

"To my dear Narcissa, Happy Birthday, with love - LM" _Lucius Malfoy. Oh God, this was a gift from him to Narcissa. This was Narcissa's book._

She knew Narcissa was dead, everyone knew that, but until then, Hermione had never considered just how lonely Lucius must be. Missing her terribly, living without her in this manor, and blind at that. She couldn't help the empathy she felt for him.

"What did you think?", Lucius's drawl interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm sorry?", she responded. Her mind had wandered quite far.

"What did you think of the book? I've always heard you were quite the bookworm back at Hogwarts", he told her.

"Well, it was a lovely story. Elegantly told, I had never...", she trailed off. _At Hogwarts?_ "How did you know I went to Hogwarts?"

Lucius laughed, showing a bit of teeth even, "Miss Granger, I may be blind but I'm not deaf, nor am I daft. Did you really think a soul would live in my manor without me knowing exactly who they are?"

She gasped in shock, "then...why did you ask my name?"

"I didn't. I asked what I should call you - I assumed you would prefer anything over 'prisoner' or 'mudblood', and apparently you decided to be called Monica", he chuckled again, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"My mother...Monica is my mother's name", she told him. He nodded in response, a look of understanding passing over his features.

"When you return tomorrow, I would like for you to choose a new book to start. I assume you know the way to the library well enough to get there on your own?", he questioned.

She nodded, confused when he proceeded to stare at her even without his vision. "Oh, sorry. Yes, I do", she told him, embarrassed that she forgot he was blind for what was likely the hundredth time.

~~~

Hermione was feeling odd - more emotionally conflicted than usual - when she went to report to Malfoy. She was shocked that Lucius had known who she was this entire time, embarrassed that she had lied about it and he had played along. But most of all, she felt terrible for Lucius. She never thought she'd see the day she pitied a Death Eater, and yet here that day was.

She finished updating Malfoy and turned to leave.

"No questions today? You've given up on seeking answers already?", he asked her. _Was that a...playful tone of voice?_

She angrily turned to him, "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results", she crossed her arms.

"Do you often quote famous muggles and try to pass their words for your own, thinking no one will notice?", he laughed.

"You know who Albert Einstein is?", she said genuinely shocked.

"Just because muggles are rudimentary doesn't mean I'm ignorant to their history", he told her as if that should have been obvious.

They both stared at each other, Hermione waiting for Malfoy to make another snarky comment, him likely expecting the same of her. When neither showed any interest in continuing the interaction, Hermione turned to leave.

She heard his voice as she walked through the door to leave, but kept walking. "Up in Flames is a good book - by T.L. Maddox - Section N", he said to her.

 _He was giving her book recommendations now?_ Begrudgingly, she took note of it.


	16. Incendiaries

**Song** : BITE - Troye Sivan

**The Daily Prophet - August 9th, 1998**

"Mystery Attacks Across Europe"

By: Rita Skeeter

Sources tell us that there has been suspicious activity in seemingly random locations across Europe over the past few weeks. These attacks appear to be in no particular order or fashion, and the source of these attacks remains unknown.

Many have referred to the responsible parties as "terrorists", "incendiaries", and "cowards". As far as we at the Daily Prophet are concerned, they are all three.

"It's absolutely horrifying, how are we supposed to feel safe when these terrorists can get to the best of us?", one resident in Bucharest, Romania says. "One minute, we all feel perfectly safe, protected in our beliefs and following the Dark Lord. Now, Death Eaters are dropping like flies, and no one has an explanation?", a Poland native says.

Over the past few months, the Dark Lord strategically placed Death Eaters to ensure laws were being properly enforced and followed in the Dark Territories - Romania, Poland, Germany, France, and the Netherlands. "I only wish for my followers to feel safe, they are the elite of this world and deserve nothing less", the Dark Lord stated in his speech last Friday.

While not much is known for sure, we are fully confident that the culprit of these attacks will be discovered and handled in a timely fashion.

~~~

All Draco could think about - worry about, rather - after reading the article, was Theo. He was stationed in Romania. Was he one of the Death Eaters who had been killed?

As far as anyone knew, any remaining members of the Order were too weak and scared to put up any more of a fight after the Battle of Hogwarts. Unless the Dark Lord knew something they didn't, which was likely. He wouldn't be caught dead in a compromised position. So the question was, who was responsible for these attacks if not the Order?

Since Draco's promotion, he had been moved next to the Dark Lord at his table, his right-hand man. Minister of Magic.

"Minister, what do you think should be done about our little problem?", the Dark Lord asked him. All eyes switched to focus on Draco.

"My Lord", he began, "I believe sending more Death Eaters to replace them would only result in more losses. My suggestion is that we deploy a few undercover Death Eaters to investigate the situation and return with answers for further evaluation."

The Dark Lord nodded in thought, "yes, a good suggestion indeed", he stroked Nagini's head. "All those opposing?", he questioned the table. More of a dare really, his word was always final.

Quickly, Bellatrix raised a bony, grayish hand, "My Lord, if I may".

The Dark Lord nodded at her, wearing a gruesome smile. "My Lord, I fear sending undercover Death Eaters would do no good"

"Why is that, Bellatrix?", he hissed the last sound in her name.

"Clearly these terrorists know more than they should, these attacks are calculated and precise. These incendiaries have never been caught. What good would it do?", she asked him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Dear Bellatrix, you doubt the plans that I deem best?", the Dark Lord threatened. Daring her to continue. She was already in too deep. She was from the moment she raised her hand, but Draco didn't feel sorry for her. She wasn't family, not anymore. She hadn't ever been in his eyes.

"No my Lord! Of course not! I simply-", he cut Bellatrix off, "then _why_ have you not stopped talking?", he was standing now, voice echoing across the hall. If she was looking to work his temper, she had succeeded.

She shook her head aggressively, fear in her eyes as well as admiration. _Fucking loon._ Her mouth shut with a pop and she averted her eyes.

"We will move forward with the Minister's plan, seeing as no one else in this room can be bothered to use the pureblood brains they've been blessed with. What a waste", the Dark Lord clicked his tongue.

He waved his hand to dismiss them, but Bellatrix stayed. The Dark Lord didn't have to tell her to, he knew she would. She knew she was to be punished, and she wasn't the type to try and avoid it.

The last thing Draco heard before flooing to the manor was his Aunt's screams. He laughed at the sound.

~~~

It was 8pm that night when Granger came in to update Draco. The same routine, just another day.

Draco was surprised when she turned to leave immediately after finishing her recount.

"No questions today? You've given up on seeking answers already?", he asked her, a smile playing at his lips. _Come on Granger, show me that fire._

She angrily turned to him, "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results", she crossed her arms. _There it is._

"Do you often quote famous muggles and try to pass their words for your own, thinking no one will notice?", he laughed. Draco knew this would make her angrier. And that was exactly what he intended to do.

"You know who Albert Einstein is?", she said genuinely shocked. He didn't, but her words were clearly quoted, and he would have recognized them if they were said by a famous witch or wizard. He assumed it was a muggle, and he assumed right.

"Just because muggles are rudimentary doesn't mean I'm ignorant to their history", he told her as if that should have been obvious. _Checkmate. Too easy to push your buttons, Granger._

They both stared at each other in silence. Draco was sure she had more in her, but apparently he was wrong. She turned to leave. _Fuck._ He hadn't meant to drive her out of the room.

She began to walk so he called out, "Up in Flames is a good book - by T.L. Maddox - Section N." She didn't even stop.

The book he mentioned was also one of his mother's - another one of her favorites. He knew Granger liked to read, and he hated the thought of his mother's books never being read again. Collecting dust in section N of the library.

He missed her every day, but it was easier now. As much as he hated it, Granger's updates were the best part of his dreary life. Hearing her voice, watching her squirm under his gaze on the days he decided to use it.

He loved hearing the irritation in her voice when he riled her up, it certainly wasn't hard to do. But their brief interactions were always over far too soon. He'd take what he could get.


	17. A Good Book

**Song** : When We Were Young - Adele

The next day, Bopsy unlocked the dungeon for Hermione earlier than usual so that she would have time to look in the library for a new book to read to Lucius. She didn't want to pick something he didn't like, but she wished he'd be more specific about what she was expected to bring back.

She tried to hurry, scanning over the various sections, finding everything from Malfoy lineage books to romance novels, and everything in between. There was so much to look at that for once, she actually wished there was less to choose from.

"Erm, Bopsy?", Hermione asked the elf. She smiled and waited for Hermione to continue.

"Can you show me Section N again?", she asked.

Bopsy practically jumped up and down with joy, walking as quickly as she could to the alcove on the back left of the upstairs.

She began to scan the authors' names for T.L. Maddox. _There it is. Up in Flames by T.L. Maddox_. While she didn't trust Malfoy, she didn't see any reason why he would suggest a book to her and have any ulterior motives, so she swallowed her pride and took the book from its shelf.

She began to scan the sleeve of the novel: "Ezekiel Chase is no average wizard", Hermione scoffed. _How original_ , then she continued.

"...living in a world of flames both mentally and physically, as the world around him appears to soldier on", _okay, maybe it is different...screw it._

She shut the book and let Bopsy know she had selected a book and was ready to go to Lucius's study.

~~~

Hermione sat down in Lucius's study, "Up in Flames" in front of her.

"What did you choose", he asked, the look on his face made him look like he knew something she didn't. Who was she kidding, he probably knew plenty of things that she didn't.

"Up in Flames", she said, pausing to gauge his reaction.

"Good choice, you may begin", he told her, and so she did.

"...but his family's situation could never compare to the pain he felt inside and out. It gnawed at him, like a beast, savoring its last meal, only to use the bones to pick its teeth afterwards. It burned brighter than the sun and stronger than an army of soldiers. He didn't allow himself to feel pity over it, for after all, it was his own fault. His own backfired plan. His own blunder. And now he would suffer the consequences."

She had been reading for a few hours before Lucius stopped her, signaling the end of their daily rendezvous.

She began to leave but stopped in the doorway, turning back, "Sir?"

He lifted his head, "Lucius", he reminded her, then nodded for Hermione to continue.

"Winters of Wimberly...that was Narcissa's...wasn't it", she said, more of a statement than a question. She knew the answer, but she was trying to see how he was feeling in the least intrusive or awkward way she could manage.

When he didn't respond, she continued, "did she read often?" There was a long pause.

Once she was almost certain he wasn't going to answer, she began to turn, but not before noticing his lips quirking up into a small smile. He nodded his head softly, as if remembering her. Her heart felt heavy, but she left him to his thoughts.

Before stepping out the door, she turned back one last time, considering whether she should say anything else, or maybe apologize for being too intrusive. The last thing she saw before heading to Malfoy's study was Lucius fiddling with the wedding ring on his finger.

~~~

Hermione took great care when recounting the day to avoid telling Malfoy what book she ended up choosing. She hadn't truly had enough time to browse the library, but she was still embarrassed about it. No way in hell she'd admit to him that she took his recommendation.

When she finished, halfway out the door, he asked her, "What did you choose?" She could hear the taunting in his voice.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks so she only half-faced him before saying "a good book", a smile crawling across her face shyly, and then she was gone.

~~~

Hermione sat in the small bathtub full of cold water, thinking of Lucius. Poor Lucius. He'd probably hex her for even _thinking_ of pitying him if he knew.

 _It must be a trait of Malfoy men to constantly put on a brave face through it all._ She thought this about both Lucius and Draco. Saw it in both of them.

If they showed a smile, a frown, an arched brow, it wasn't without purpose or permission. Nothing was an accident with these men. You would think they passed down the skill of being stoic and cold through the family line. She'd certainly believe it.

She drew circles in the bathwater. Pondering. Thinking. Considering.

She couldn't help but wonder if all the books in that section belonged to Narcissa specifically. _Section N - for Narcissa. Of course._ And she had just brought _another_ book to read Lucius that was his wife's. He definitely knew that, and she'd had no idea. It was his son's recommendation after all.

It suddenly made sense that there was an alcove just for that section. She didn't know Narcissa had been such a book lover, like herself. But then again, she hadn't known Narcissa at all. She just assumed she would be like her husband and son - dark, cold, discriminating.

But she hadn't been a Death Eater. She knew that much, and it was just enough to make her feel bad that Narcissa died at Voldemort's hand. And for nothing. Harry died anyway. She died trying to save him, and even if it wasn't until the final hour that she made the right choice, it counted for something.

Hermione drained the bathwater and dried off before getting dressed and pulling her curls into a bun atop her head, a few stray strands falling on her face.

She got under the quilt and laid down on her cot - pondering, thinking, and considering some more.

She felt bad making any assumptions about Narcissa. Felt bad for her son and husband. Felt bad for Narcissa herself. Making assumptions about her made Hermione just as discriminating, didn't it?

Occasionally, Hermione had nightmares about any and everything her mind could bring into focus when she was asleep. But tonight, she dreamed of Narcissa Malfoy. She dreamed that she knew her. She dreamed that Narcissa was a good person, who hadn't died, and who had succeeded in saving Harry, and by default, saving them all.


	18. Arcturus

**Song** : ...baby one more time - The Marias

Draco sat at his desk, doing the same mundane tasks he did every day.

"Draco", a sultry voice called from the doorway. Hermione stood there in a short black slip dress, a slit on her left thigh that rode up, leaving little for the imagination. It hugged her curves beautifully. He hummed in approval.

He curled a finger at her, gesturing for her to approach him. She walked over to him slowly, black heels clicking against the floor, her hips swaying seductively.

Once she was in arm's distance, he reached out, yanking her hips towards him so she could straddle him in the chair. "Busy?", she whispered into his ear.

"It can always wait - I'd much rather be doing... _other things_...", he trailed a finger along her jawline, causing her eyes to shut and her body to shiver slightly. He began placing kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear.

"And what would you rather be doing?", she asked him playfully.

He pressed her hips down forcefully so she could feel him through his pants. "I think you know, sweetheart", he chuckled darkly.

She began to unzip his pants, rubbing him torturously. He grabbed her arm, "You know I don't like to be teased, love".

"Then tell me what you want, Draco", she batted her eyes innocently at him. _Vixen._

He groaned. She rose slightly so he could slip his pants down. He removed his boxers at the same time, allowing him to spring free and he watched greedily as she slipped her lace knickers down to her ankles, kicking them to the side.

She straddled him again, grinding her wetness against him and they both moaned. "Fuck", they said in unison.

She began to kiss his neck, leaving small bruises, then whispered in his ear "tell me what you want."

He pulled her face back so he could stare into those eyes that burned into him. "You", he mumbled across her lips.

Draco shot up in bed suddenly, sweating profusely and gasping. _What the fuck?_

This was not the first dream he'd had about Granger in the past few months, it was likely the 4th or 5th, but this one had gone further than the others.

They typically weren't more than the two of them making out or touching each other curiously. But what he just dreamed was... _Salazar I want that. No - just lonely. Horny. Desperate. He wasn't that pathetic._

He climbed out of bed, chucking his sweat-drenched boxers into the laundry basket. He walked to the bathroom and made the shower cold this time. He touched himself to her _once_ and swore he wouldn't do it again. So far, he had successfully kept that promise.

_"Then tell me what you want Draco" "You"_

No. He stepped into the freezing cold water and flinched.

_"Busy?", her voice sounded in his ears again._

_Maybe one more wank wouldn't be the end of the world..._

~~~

 **Song** : Bust Your Knee Caps - Pomplamoose

So far, no progress had been made whatsoever on the Incendiaries.

Bellatrix, like the pathetic minion she was, had eagerly volunteered to be part of the mission to investigate after apologizing profusely to the Dark Lord.

Rodolphus and Rabastan had both gone as well, in addition to Alecto and Amycus Carrow.

Bellatrix was sent to Poland, Rodolphus to Germany, Rabastan to Romania, Alecto to the Netherlands, and Amycus to France.

The Dark Lord had received owls from all five today, as instructed, and none had uncovered anything new. He was furious.

Draco sat, completely uninterested, in his Minister seat as the Dark Lord took his rage out on Nott Sr. He tried not to laugh. It sounded fucked up, but Nott Sr. really was a piece of shit. He had beat Theo since before he took his first steps. Their entire friend group knew that.

Therefore, not one of them had an ounce of sympathy for the man as the Dark Lord cruicio'd him until he was foaming at the mouth and spasming aggressively on the ground.

"Someone get this fool out of my sight", the Dark Lord boomed. No one moved. "NOW", he screamed. The closest person to Arcturus - Crabbe Sr. - scrambled to pick the man up and drag him out of sight.

The Dark Lord took his place at the table once again, eyes closed and fingers steepled in thought.

"My Lord, if I may make a suggestion", Draco said to him.

The Dark Lord nodded at him and waited.

"While this mission's hitherto failure has nothing to do with you of course, I feel that those who volunteered for the mission may be gravely incompetent", Draco told him.

He nodded in agreement.

"I would be happy to take control of the mission and ensure that it progresses moving forward", he told him.

"Minister", the Dark Lord began, "while I admire your leadership and strategizing capabilities, I fear that your Minister duties are of more importance." Draco nodded. He knew that would be his response. He counted on it.

The Dark Lord turned to Nott Sr., who was slouched in the back corner, mostly hidden by Crabbe Sr.'s oversized body.

"Arcturus", he called, "you will take the lead here. Unless you would like further punishment for your son's failure, I suggest you figure out what's going on across Europe", the Dark Lord told Nott Sr. A chilling finality in his voice.

"M-my Lord", Arcturus rasped out, and nodded the best he could. It was very clear there would be no denying the Dark Lord. No one in their right mind would.

"Excellent, it is done", he waved his hand and everyone departed.

_He's going to die. He's going to fail, and he's going to die because of it. Theo would be thrilled if he were here..._


	19. Any other plans

**Song** : waiting on the weekend - YUNGBLUD

Hermione was about halfway through "Up in Flames" with Lucius - and she liked the book. _Really_ liked the book. She almost couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Malfoy had been the one to recommend it.

Needless to say, Hermione spent the entire day looking forward to 6pm.

When Bopsy came to let her out of the dungeon, she told Hermione that Lucius was waiting for her in the library this time. She quirked an eyebrow in confusion, but made her way there as she was told.

When she walked in, Lucius was waiting for her at the large, round table in the center of the room, their nightly tea already prepared for them.

She sat down, trying to mask her excitement, but began to read:

_"Everything I do, I do for you two, and yet you continue to fault me for it!", Ezekiel yelled at his parents._

_"And you assume our actions aren't just the same for you?", his father defended, the scowl on his face deepening._

_"There's a difference between doing things for me and doing things for appearances", Ezekiel retorted, clenching his fists._

_"They are done for you! Some things in life are more complicated than they seem - you do not get to choose what sacrifices are worthy of being meaningful and which aren't". His father said, his face turning red now._

_Ezekiel considered this, concluding that he was wrong. All his father did was make excuses. Every action, every step taken, every word spoken, was purely in his own interest._

_It had been true his entire life, and it always would be._

Lucius stopped her at the end of that chapter, wearing a smirk, although she wasn't sure why.

"Penny for your thoughts, Miss Granger?", Lucius asked her.

"Honestly?", she asked him, unsure if he really wanted to hear it.

He nodded in response so she continued, "I think Ezekiel and his father are terrible with their communication. They both are doing the same thing, yet they hate each other for it, as if one has the right to make sacrifices for the sake of family, but the other isn't allowed to. It's entirely hypocritical".

"I agree, but consider this - each has portions of their life unseen by the other, making it difficult for them to see the clear parallels in their actions", he responded.

"Well of course, but is it not foolish? They're family, they love each other, and yet, the hardest thing to them is showing any form of empathy or affection?", she argued.

He smiled softly, "It is easier said than done".

She nodded, deep in thought. Deep in the novel. It was so good because it was so real, so accurate to relationships between two people, both trying to save each other, but pushing the other away in the process.

Lucius rose from his seat and began to walk away - backwards from their usual situation where she would leave him. "I've enjoyed the discussion, I look forward to more tomorrow", he said, turning and strolling towards the door.

She sat staring at the book, twiddling her fingers. "Oh, and Miss Granger?", he called. She paused, waiting for his next words.

His head was halfway turned to glance over his shoulder, which she knew he was only doing for her benefit, considering he couldn't see her anyway. "I believe the library will remain unoccupied...if you don't have any other plans for the night." _What?_

He was gone before she could ask what he meant. _I can stay here a while? I don't have to go back to the dungeon?_ She practically leapt out of her seat.

She wanted to sprint up and down the rows of books, running her fingers along their spines, smelling the ink and parchment.

She didn't know how much time she had, but she didn't care either. She was sure someone would come and make her go back to her cage, so she would enjoy it while it lasted.

She spent the next few hours roaming around the different sections, struggling to pick one book to focus on.

She eventually started a book on the history of witches and their impact - it was wonderful. She read until her eyelids grew heavy and she was blessed with deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in over 3 months.


	20. Hunt you down

**Song** : Holding on for Life - Broken Bells

The Dark Lord was, once again, incredibly angry. _What a surprise._

It had become so common for the Dark Lord to have his outbursts, Draco wasn't even phased or affected by them anymore.

All of the Death Eaters were seated at their usual table at noon when the news came. One of the lower-ranking Death Eaters ran in, out of breath, looking horrified that he would be the one to break the news.

Amycus Carrow was found dead this morning in France. He had been undercover, and still managed to get himself killed. _Bloody prat._

"M-my L-lord, I have, um, I-", the young Death Eater stuttered, he couldn't have been older than 15.

Nagini lurched at the boy and he cowered in fear, "Out with it", the Dark Lord commanded.

"Amycus Carrow was found dead this m-morning, My Lord", he said, literally shaking in his boots.

A loud crack echoed in the room as the table they all sat at cracked straight down the middle from the Dark Lord's anger.

"How? Where?", the Dark Lord demanded answers.

The horrified boy couldn't even look up at him, "still in France, it was an entrail-expelling curse my Lord. There was a letter in his hand...addressed to you, my Lord."

"Where is this letter now?", the Dark Lord was pacing now, waiting to strike.

The boy held a piece of folded parchment in his hand out to the Dark Lord and he snatched it from his hands. It was tied with a red ribbon and closed with a red wax seal portraying a cursive "I".

"Read it", the Dark Lord said, tossing the parchment in front of Draco, "out loud".

Draco broke the seal, untied the ribbon, and began to read aloud to the table:

_To the Head Snake,_

_While we loathe everything you do, we appreciate the time taken to give us a name. We quite like it actually. If you're reading this then you've found Amycus Carrow. Unfortunately for you, he barely put up a fight. Simply squirmed and begged for his life, swearing to denounce you if we let him go. Isn't it odd how quickly people are willing to change their allegiance when their lives depend on it? Next time, send someone with an ounce of courage will you?_

_Sincerely,_

_The Incendiaries_

The room was so quiet that the wind whipping around outside, the first signs of a coming storm, could be heard even through the thick, stone walls of the Dark Lord's home.

A dreadful banging sound filled the air, causing all of them to cover their ears and scrunch up their faces.

The boy who was unfortunate enough to bring the news was being levitated by the Dark Lord, who began to slam him into the wall, floor, wall again, on and on until the boy stopped screaming.

He dropped the boy's body, which made a disgusting sound - the thudding combined with cracking bones. His blood pooled around the floor. He was dead. _Talk about shooting the messenger._

"Everyone out. If Arcturus Nott isn't standing in front of me in the next 5 minutes then I'll kill every last one of you", he told them. They all practically tripped over each other to get out of the room.

~~~

 **Song** : Sex and Candy - Unions

It was 1am when Draco realized Granger hadn't reported to him. _That's odd..._

He had been reading in his study, sipping his firewhiskey. He was tired, but couldn't sleep. Nothing new.

He knew his father would be asleep by now, and it wouldn't make sense for her to be in his study. She definitely wouldn't have gone back to the dungeon sooner than she had to. He set out to check the library first, deciding that option made the most sense.

He opened the doors quietly to a very dim, candlelit library. He scanned the room for her, knowing she was there. The library dimmed after 11pm, but a few candles would remain on if someone was in there after that time.

He walked slowly around the library, not finding her on the lower level, so he decided to go upstairs.

By default, he took the left set of stairs and headed for his mother's alcove. _Bingo._

There she was, head leaned against the window, legs up on the seat, her arms wrapped around them. A book lay open in front of her, mostly finished. She clearly fell asleep reading.

He took in her appearance for a moment, seeing her peaceful for the first time in his life. The way her curls fell over her face, her fingers curled slightly, her lips almost pouting.

Suddenly Draco heard a mumbling. He took a few steps closer to hear her, "have to...have to report to him...have to report...have to", her eyes shot open and she jumped a bit.

He stood there, waiting for her to notice him. She hadn't yet.

She rubbed her eyes groggily, "Shit", she whispered, "what time is-", she froze, likely sensing his presence.

Granger slowly turned her head towards him and inhaled sharply when she met his eyes. "Malfoy", she huffed in relief, "would it kill you to not sneak up on people?"

She ran her fingers through her hair and he couldn't help but watch her in...admiration? Fascination?

"Well, I normally don't wake people up, nor do I find people asleep in my library", he stated.

"I'm sorry, Lucius told me I could stay here a while, I really didn't mean to fall asleep here", she told him honestly.

He waved his hand dismissively, "Not like anyone has used it lately anyway." He walked to the adjacent window seat and sat there, looking out the window at the dark yard.

"Are you...are you really the Minister of Magic now?", she asked him.

"Is that such a shock?", he asked her, and she grinned slightly. "Ah, you wound me Granger", he said, feigning distress.

She chuckled lightly and Draco felt a stirring in his stomach. Quickly putting on his poker-face, he tried to push it away. "Yes, Minister Malfoy at your service", he did a small bow.

"And what does Minister Malfoy spend his days doing?", she turned her body to angle towards him.

"Whatever the Dark Lord deems necessary", he responded with a sigh. "I usually spend half my time with him, the other half at the ministry."

"Malfoy", she started hesitantly, "why is Voldemort keeping me here? Please tell me, I'd do almost anything, I'm completely in the dark here."

He smirked at the thought, _anything? Now that was tempting._

He cleared his throat, hoping to clear his thoughts in the process. "He wants to use you to draw out the Incendiaries. He believes they're the remaining members of the resistance." He didn't know if this was the case, but it's what he was guessing.

Her jaw dropped. "But...Harry is dead, Ginny is dead, I saw them with my own eyes...do _you_ think there are surviving members out there?" Her eyes were in a full burn again, full of hope and light this time.

"Gryffindors can't ever seem to stay down can they?", he smirked devilishly. Granger didn't laugh that time though. She looked annoyed, but seemed to be holding her tongue. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I believe I've answered enough questions in one night."

She sighed loudly, looking away from Draco as he stood. "You know, I never said you had to stay in the dungeon all day, Merlin knows my father won't be reading the books in here", he chuckled darkly at his own joke.

"You should go back and get some sleep now, though. And from now on, report to me right after you finish up with my father. I can't come hunt you down every time", he smirked. _Not that he'd be opposed to it._


	21. Forgetting

**Song** : The Other Side of Paradise - Glass Animals

Hermione sat by the pond, feeling the grass between her toes and the warmth of the sun on her face in contrast to the cool breeze.

The sun was setting, painting strokes of orange, pink, yellow, and red across the skyline.

"Enjoying yourself, love?", a voice from behind called to her.

Her eyes were still closed - she took in this feeling of contentment, of happiness. She hummed in response.

"I saw Harry and Ron today", she told him, dipping her toes in the cold water. "We had tea - they're both doing well. Harry plans to propose to Ginny this weekend.", she said joyfully.

"Well it certainly took him long enough", the voice said with a chuckle before taking a seat next to her. A cool, pale hand covered hers - black and silver rings decorating it and shimmering in the low sunlight.

She smiled down at their hands, then looked up to meet his eyes. An ocean of silver and blue, swimming in harmony. Her smile dropped.

"I'm forgetting something", she said, feeling panicked for some reason.

He tilted his head in question. "I'm forgetting...", Hermione started but trailed off, "I have to...have to report to him...have to report...have to...?", she couldn't finish the thought, but it was so close in her mind she could feel it. Just out of reach. _What am I forgetting? Malfoy._

She startled awake and gasped before rubbing her eyes groggily, "Shit", she whispered, "what time is-", she froze when she could sense that she wasn't alone.

Hermione slowly turned her head to find Malfoy staring at her. She gasped sharply when she met his eyes. "Malfoy", she huffed in relief, "would it kill you to not sneak up on people?". _Bloody creep. Holding a prisoner captive in his home and now watching them sleep?_

"Well, I normally don't wake people up, nor do I find people asleep in my library", he stated. She rolled her eyes. _Ha ha. Very funny Malfoy._

"I'm sorry, Lucius told me I could stay here a while, I really didn't mean to", she said him honestly. She really hadn't. But was she really sorry? Even Hermione herself wasn't sure of that. It was nice to be anywhere but the dungeons, even if it meant sleeping in a seated position.

He waved his hand dismissively, "Not like anyone has used it lately anyway." He walked to the adjacent window seat and sat there, looking out the window at the dark yard. She studied him. His long legs in his black dress pants, a silk black button up snug against his chest. He looked... _no._

She shook her thoughts away. Dear Godric she must have been tired to think like that for even a _moment_. She redirected her thoughts quickly.

"Are you...are you really the Minister of Magic now?", she asked him.

"Is that such a shock?", he turned to her, "Ah, you wound me Granger", he said, feigning distress. _He was cute when he smiled. No he wasn't. Get it together Hermione._

She chuckled lightly, hoping he wasn't a legilimens. When she didn't say anything he continued,"Yes, Minister Malfoy at your service", he did a small bow. _He wasn't cute, he was handsome - What the hell is wrong with me?_

"And what does Minister Malfoy spend his days doing?", she turned her body to angle towards him without meaning to, as if it were out of her hands. Her words came out much flirtier than she had meant them to.

"Whatever the Dark Lord deems necessary", he responded with a sigh. "I usually spend half my time with him, the other half at the ministry." _Merlin that sounds miserable. Every bit of it, and he doesn't seem too enthusiastic about it either._

"Malfoy", she started hesitantly, "why is Voldemort keeping me here? Please tell me, I'd do almost anything, I'm completely in the dark here." And she meant it - although it obviously excluded certain things.

She fought the temptation to clarify what "almost anything" excluded when he smirked at her. It almost made her blush but she breathed deeply, trying to prevent it. His thoughts likely hadn't gone the direction hers had.

He appeared to consider this for a moment before sighing and answering her question, "He wants to use you to draw out the Incendiaries. He believes they're the remaining members of the resistance." _Remaining members of the resistance?_ She had her suspicions that the Incendiaries she read about in the Daily Prophet were related to the resistance, but who had survived?

Her jaw dropped. "But...Harry is dead, Ginny is dead, I saw them with my own eyes...do _you_ think there are surviving members out there?" She felt the only sliver of hope she had left growing larger.

"Gryffindors can't ever seem to stay down can they?", he smirked devilishly. _They're too brave to stay down, unlike cowardly Slytherins._ She bit her tongue.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I believe I've answered enough questions in one night.", he told her. _Fair enough._ This was already more than he typically gave her.

Hermione sighed loudly, looking away from Malfoy as he stood. "You know, I never said you had to stay in the dungeon all day, Merlin knows my father won't be reading the books in here", he chuckled darkly. _What a tasteless joke. How insensitive could he be?_

"You should go back and get some sleep now, though. And from now on, report to me right after you finish up with my father. I can't come hunt you down every time", he smirked. _Hunt me down? What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

Hermione waited until she heard Malfoy closing the doors to the library before even moving a muscle. She didn't want any more interaction with him tonight. Even in the dark isolated halls of Malfoy manor, she'd rather be alone than with him. And yet, she found herself yearning for his presence as soon as he had gone.

The next morning when she woke up, her typical tasteless breakfast was replaced with a stack of pancakes. Hermione was practically foaming at the mouth. Bopsy was standing there staring at Hermione as if waiting for something.

"Good morning Bopsy", she greeted her and walked over to retrieve the plate from the elf.

Bopsy smiled shyly at her. Hermione looked down at that plate. The pancakes were decorated with a smiley face, and in place of the mouth was the word "mudblood" written in chocolate chips.

"Does mudblood like it? Master Malfoy says Bopsy is to feed you better and Master Malfoy let Bopsy make it herself! Does mudblood like it?", she asked eagerly. She was clearly quite proud of the breakfast she had put together.

"...yes they're...", Hermione paused, "this looks delicious", she finished. "Thank you, Bopsy."

The elf grinned as widely as her mouth would allow her to and left looking pleased with her work.

Hermione was, of course, thoroughly insulted by the thought of eating pancakes that said "mudblood" in clear reference to her. But she couldn't complain. Bopsy likely picked up the phrase from Malfoy himself.

She couldn't remember the last time she had chocolate. It had been months since she ate anything but rice, toast, and water really. She practically swallowed the pancakes whole.


	22. Rising from the Ashes

**Song** : Afraid - The Neighborhood

Draco had just entered the Ministry of Magic via floo at 7:23 on Friday, August 14th. He made his way towards the elevators when something caught his eye - a flash of red hair, on a face he couldn't get a good look at, but appeared familiar nonetheless.

He stopped walking, and grew more suspicious when he noticed the redhead walking rather quickly. He turned on the spot and began to follow the man without hesitation. _Something's off._

The redhead seemed to notice Draco and started to move more quickly - so Draco did the same. Before long, the unidentified man was sprinting down the main hall of the Ministry, knocking random ministry workers out of the way in his wake.

Draco shot a stunning spell at the man right as he rounded the corner - missed. _Fuck._ He sped up, his own heavy breathing was loud in his ears.

He chased the redhead at full speed now, following him straight out the Ministry doors just in time to see the man stop and face him. _Fucking. Weaselbee._

Ron stared at him with the most evil look he had ever seen on the face of a Gryffindor. "Such a shame you'll miss it, Malfoy", he said to Draco.

Draco tilted his head in question, _miss what?_

Ron bared his teeth and mouthed "BOOM" with a chuckle before disapparating.

_No. No no no no no._

The earth beneath Draco's feet shook aggressively as he leapt out of the way just in time.

A sound so loud it seemed to crack through the atmosphere came from behind Draco and his ears rung painfully. He cowered in an alleyway near the ministry, hands over his ears.

Smoke began to fill the air as he rounded the corner to see the ministry in flames. Not much left standing. _Holy shit._

Draco's blood ran cold, bumps rising all over his skin. _Holy shit holy shit holy shit._ He coughed aggressively, his lungs struggling to find oxygen in the polluted air and burning from the soot he inhaled.

He looked up to see a symbol rising in the air from the smoke and ashes, much like the Dark Mark would. A phoenix. Rising from the ashes. _The Incendiaries._

Draco pulled his wand out and touched his Dark Mark to summon the Dark Lord. He wouldn't like this, but there wasn't another option.

The earth shook again, not as much as the bomb caused it to only minutes before, but enough to compete with its force.

Suddenly the Dark Lord was before him, Nagini trailing behind his ruffling robes. He stared at Draco expectantly, and without a word, Draco pointed to the sky.

The Dark Lord followed his direction, looking to the symbol that floated in red above the ministry ruins. _And so it begins again._

~~~

There were no survivors of the attack on the ministry. If Draco hadn't seen Ron fleeing the scene, he would have been one of them. He alluded fate by mere chance.

His face and hair were still coated in black soot when he finally got back to the manor that night, a severe contrast with his pale skin and white hair.

The Dark Lord was insatiably furious. No one had seen this coming, and his worst fear had come true - showing weakness in the eyes of the public.

After hours of torturing people, invading their minds and slithering through every last memory, he had found nothing. Draco was included in this, the Dark Lord trusted no one after today's events.

If he didn't have the thick residue on every inch of him, his body would likely be covered in obsidian and scarlet colored injuries. Draco was sure his body would collapse any minute now, he struggled to even make it up the stairs to his room.

He didn't even bother standing in the shower - he couldn't. He watched the grit and ash melt off of his body and swim down the drain, swirling and spinning sedately.

_I should be dead._

He didn't even notice when silent tears began to stream down his face, mixing with the water that flowed out of the shower head. _Everyone in that building died today._

He bit his cheek hard enough that it bled, creating a rough patch on the inside of his mouth. _I would've been one of them. Should've been one of them._

Draco sat there under the water until it ran cold - it felt like he sat there for hours. Letting his skin turn slightly blue before he finally turned the knob to cut off the water and dried off.

He collapsed on his bed with towel-dried hair that still dripped onto his pillow. He didn't even bother getting dressed. His entire body ached with exhaustion. His mind was flooded but his body was burning. He stared at the ceiling until he couldn't hold his eyelids open any longer.

_I'm going to die at the end of this. I just know it. I'm playing with fire and I'm in too deep. I'm going to die. I almost died today...what if I die?_


	23. You weren't here

**Song** : WTF Are We Talking For - Labrinth

Hermione received Bopsy's special "mudblood" chocolate chip pancakes every day for the next month. At that point, the "mudblood" wasn't even what bothered her anymore. She never thought she would see the day, but she was a bit sick of pancakes at that point.

But being sick of pancakes was the least of Hermione's concerns.

It had been a month since she read about the bombing of the Ministry of Magic in the Daily Prophet. They had attributed it to the Incendiaries - blaming the group for every last death that occurred that day.

It wasn't lost on her that Malfoy could've died in the attack, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

She had a hard time believing the Incendiaries were responsible - not if they were fighting for good. The only other answer in her mind was that this was a different group of resistance members altogether.

The friends she grew up with would never bomb a building with hundreds of witches and wizards inside. Would never risk lives like that.

Malfoy was working from home in his study, and it was rare that he even left the room. He almost never left the Manor these days either.

It wasn't hard to believe that he was meant to be killed in the attack. After all, he was the Minister of Magic. He wouldn't tell her how he survived it, but that was no surprise considering he rarely answered any questions she posed.

Hermione did the best she could to distract herself by spending her days in the library, fantasizing she lived in another life, another world.

After that first night in the library with Lucius, he decided that would be their regular meeting place for the foreseeable future. This was even more convenient for Hermione because it meant she didn't have to leave her literature-filled safe haven until she went to bed.

Each evening at 6pm, a tray of tea would appear on the center round table for the two of them, they would read, discuss it, then he would leave. It was odd to be interpreting the deeper meanings of fictional works with Lucius Malfoy, but she quite enjoyed it, and he seemed to as well. Each day he spoke a bit more than the last.

By the end of August, they had finished four books during their time together. Hermione often found herself reacting out loud to events in the book while Lucius remained stone-faced as usual. Never allowing his facade to crack.

One night, while Hermione was reading aloud, she paused at the sound of floo powder being used downstairs. Malfoy must have gone somewhere, which, if you asked her, was an idiotic idea considering he was clearly on the Incendiaries' hit-list.

After reading, discussing, and drinking tea that had long-gone cold, Lucius departed, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. She read alone for a while in the Section N alcove until she found herself yawning too frequently to process what she was reading.

She stood, placed the novel back on the shelf, and out of habit, made her way to Draco's study. It wasn't until she was at his door that she realized she hadn't heard the sound of him returning. _Not like I have anything else to do I guess._

So she sat outside his study, leaning her back against the wall and sliding down until her bottom met the floor. _Yawn. I'll just rest my eyes for...just for a moment..._

~~~

 **Song** : Bitch - Allie X

Hermione's eyes shot open at the sound of footsteps clicking down the hall, headed in her direction. _Merlin, what time is it? Had she not heard the floo?_

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard jumbled voices, realizing it wasn't one set of footsteps, but two. And they were growing closer.

She stood quickly, appearing rather stiff and awkward. _Who else could be here? Oh Godric, please not Voldemort._ The tea she drank earlier threatened to make a reappearance.

Two shadows walking arm in arm slowly came into view and her breath caught. _Pansy Parkinson._

She laughed obnoxiously at something Malfoy said and both of them stumbled as they made their way down the hall.

Suddenly it went quiet and they both stopped, staring Hermione down where she stood.

"What are you doing here? It's 2am", Malfoy asked her rudely.

"I, well...you weren't here for...for me to report to you", she responded, suddenly feeling ridiculous. _What the hell was I thinking? Staying up just to tell him "yes, your father and I had a grand tea party tonight, thank you for asking?" Bloody idiot._

"It really couldn't have waited until-", Malfoy was chuckling but cut himself off, his face going blank, "right, let's hear it then".

She gave him the briefest recount of the evening she possibly could, then there was a painful silence between the three of them.

Pansy's disgusting laughter broke the quiet. "You waited up to tell him THAT?", she practically turned red in the face, clutching her stomach in stitches. "To tell him you bonded with Daddy Malfoy? Proud of that are you? I mean really Granger, how pathetic, even for _you_ ", she spat, her laughter becoming hateful.

Hermione's face felt ridiculously hot and she was sure she would throw up from sheer embarrassment. But she couldn't move her feet.

"You should get some rest", Malfoy said with an unreadable expression. It looked almost like...pity? Embarrassment? She couldn't be sure, but she practically sprinted down the hall and down to the dungeon. She couldn't help but notice Pansy and Malfoy both went into his room. She almost gagged in disgust.

Hermione slammed the dungeon door and ran down the stairs before shoving her face into her pillow.

" _You weren't here_ ", she mocked herself aloud. _I mean sweet MERLIN Hermione, what is wrong with you? I really hope this isn't Stockholm Syndrome or some shit. I'd rather fucking die. I could die just from Pansy Parkinson laughing at me. If I wasn't a prisoner I would have knocked that disgusting slag out right on the spot. Godric knows she more than deserves it at this point._

Her blood was pumping furiously with a combination of embarrassment and rage. She tried to take a bath to calm herself, but she couldn't even sit still. She dressed in her usual all black clothes and began pacing around the room.

"Fucking idiot", she muttered over and over. She didn't know if she was referring to herself, Malfoy, or Pansy. She supposed it could apply to any of them.

She didn't curse aloud often, but holy hell if it didn't feel liberating. She'd give anything to have her wand and just break something. Shatter something. _Destroy_ something.

After an hour went by, Hermione finally stopped pacing and sat on her cot, knees hugged to her chest, and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was still racing too much for her to sleep, but she had finally expelled all of her physical energy.

Hermione practically stopped breathing when she heard the dungeon door creak open. _What the-? Merlin it's probably Pansy coming to murder me. At this point, I might thank her for it._

Heavy footsteps clicked down the stairs, they were too heavy to belong to Pansy. She waited anxiously for the person to step out of the shadows once she heard them reach the bottom of the stairs.

Slowly, a pink-faced, wobbly-legged Draco Malfoy stumbled into view. He wore the same black dress pants as earlier, with a charcoal grey button-up that was open all the way to his chest now. The sight almost made Hermione blush.

"Come to laugh at me some more then?", she asked him angrily, sliding her legs down to dangle off the side of the cot.

"Can you blame me?", he said in a warm, confident voice, "It's fun to see you get so flustered, Granger". An oddly seductive smile played at his lips. _No, it's not seductive. He's drunk._

"I think your girlfriend had that job covered all on her own then", she retorted, narrowing her eyes hatefully at him.

"Girlfriend?", he asked hysterically, as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. He laughed. A deep, throaty laugh that seemed to fill the room. When he finally stopped, he brushed the stray strands of blonde hair out of his face that had fallen there.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, Grangerrr", he slurred, and a smirk grew across his pale pink lips.

"Well _Malfoy_ , If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're wasted. I can smell you from here", she responded. She couldn't actually smell him, but anyone could see how drunk he was. She counted on that detail for him to not be able to see through her lie.

He took four long strides across the room before he reached her cot. He bent down to where she sat, placing a hand on either side of her legs, not stopping until his face was mere inches from hers. "Then tell me, what have I been drinking?"

Hermione's stomach clenched and she couldn't find any air. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. The hairs on her body were prickling in attention to his closeness.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he glanced down at hers before asking, "or would you need to taste it to know?"

Hermione could feel warmth building below her stomach. She was embarrassed by it, and suddenly thankful that female arousal couldn't be seen through one's clothes.

He briefly glanced at her eyes as if reading her expression, then back down to her lips, hesitating momentarily before taking a step back.

"Don't report to me anymore unless I specifically ask you to or if you think it's something I need to know - I don't like being interrupted like I was tonight", he said in an irritated tone, but Hermione was still inert where she sat.

It wasn't until she heard him ascend the stairs and close the dungeon door behind him that she ripped her clothes off and ran to the bath.

Hermione scrubbed her body from head to toe, feeling disgusted with herself. She tried to forget that those words ever escaped his lips. Ever danced across her face. She tried to forget the way he got so close to her face that she could smell him. Teakwood cologne on his skin, peppermint on his lips, and firewhiskey from his breath.

No, she didn't _need_ to taste him to know he had been drinking firewhiskey. But she had _wanted to_. Maybe even would have _let_ him taste her too.

She decided there would be no reading to mentally escape the next day. Instead, she decided, she would read as many books on Stockholm Syndrome as she could get her hands on.


	24. Addict

**Song** : California - YUNGBLUD

Draco was tired of being stuck in the manor, so when his friends wanted to meet up at The Inebriatus, he accepted the invitation gladly.

He had been ordered to work from home since the bombing of the Ministry, and it was quickly getting very old. He couldn't talk to Granger without thinking about things that he knew he shouldn't. And he definitely wasn't about to spend any more time with his father than he had to.

As a result, feeling isolated was an understatement.

The Dark Lord believed that the attack was not only a jab at him, but a specific effort to assassinate Draco as his right-hand man.

If the Incendiaries saw Draco as invaluable, then the Dark Lord now saw him as indispensable. Which meant he needed to be well out of reach.

He seemed oddly concerned about Draco's wellbeing, and he couldn't understand why. Draco just assumed that Weaselbee and whoever else was part of the Incendiaries simply wanted him dead due to his position and by association.

It didn't make sense. The position he was given was easily replaceable. It wasn't as if the Dark Lord had no one else to fill the position if anything happened to him. There was no shortage of Death Eaters.

Eager to leave Malfoy Manor for the first time in about a month, Draco arrived at the bar well before his friends did, his ears already buzzing from the alcohol by the time they sat in the booth.

"Damn, how've you been mate? Might as well be on house arrest", Blaise laughed as he greeted Draco.

"Feels a bit pre-war, and we all know how that was", Draco grinned.

"The Minister in _public?_ What a scandal - don't you know Skeeter will have a field day if you're seen?", Pansy teased him.

"We all know she's begging for table scraps at this point. I'm surprised she still has a career", Daphne added. They all laughed in agreement.

The conversation flowed freely as they knocked back round after round, feeling somewhat normal for the first time in quite a while.

"What the hell are we supposed to do about the Dark Lord's 'pureblood heir' obsession?", Daphne asked, leaning heavily on Pansy.

"Who fucking cares Daph? I doubt there will be a need for him to _force_ purebloods to procreate", Pansy snickered.

"Well he's a bit old school in his beliefs isn't he? Marriage, babies, repeat, is his philosophy for the preservation of pureblood lines, he's made that _painfully_ clear", Blaise responded, sipping his dragonclaw gin.

"Blaise is right", Draco said, swirling the firewhiskey in his glass, "arranged marriages don't seem too far fetched, all things considered."

Pansy scoffed at that, but Daphne looked genuinely concerned. When Pansy noticed, she turned to her, grabbing her hand. "It'll be alright Daph, really. I'm sure it isn't that deep", she said shooting an angry glare at Blaise and Draco.

"Look, I'm just trying to be honest. I've probably been around Lord Nose-less more than any of us, he's pretty adamant about it", Draco said

"That's fucking ridiculous", Pansy said, quickly going from jovial to irritated, "talking about arranged marriages and shit?"

"I don't know Pans...Draco's right", Blaise added. "I heard him mention to Bellatrix that he'd prefer it sooner rather than later. It's just more baby Death Eaters for his army."

"Aren't we a bit young for that?", Daphne asked softly. She looked sick to her stomach at that point.

"Stop filling her head with all this shit", Pansy spat angrily.

Draco rolled his eyes, losing his patience now. "Listen, I know you two are afraid, but the sooner you 'pair up' with someone under false pretenses, the better."

"Oh really _Minister Malfoy_ , and how do you suggest we go about that?", Pansy asked him hysterically.

Draco shrugged in response. He looked to Blaise who seemed to be thinking deeply before he interjected.

"The only people who know about you two, are us...", Blaise stated, hesitant to continue.

"Ah yes, great observation. A true detective you are", Pansy rolled her eyes. Clearly deflecting out of fear that Draco and Blaise were correct.

"It would only make sense if...well...", Blaise looked to Draco for help, practically begging for a life-preserver for the ocean he was drowning in.

"Holy shit Blaise, that's genius", Draco said, eyes blown wide in realization.

Daphne and Pansy both stared at them in anticipation.

"The Dark Lord would never accept your relationship, for obvious reasons. _But_ , it could easily fly under the radar if you both were _in relationships_ with other Death Eaters", he clarified.

"Like who?", Daphne asked them genuinely.

The boys stared at her, waiting for her to catch on. "Oh!", she finally said in realization. Pansy continued to stare as if she was missing the punch-line to an idiotic joke she had no interest in hearing.

"Pans, that's it! You pretend to date Draco, no one will have a hard time believing it because of your history, I'll pretend to date Blaise, and it'll all work out!", Daphne said in a rushed, whispered tone to be sure no one around them could hear her words.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me babe, there's no way in...", Pansy trailed off when Daphne widened her eyes innocently at her.

"Please...there's no other option", Daphne begged her. "I love you, please Pans."

Pansy was clearly between a rock and a hard place. Her eyes flickered between the three others at the table. She thought for a long moment before finally sighing, "Okay. I love you Daph. I'll do it for you", she told her.

Daphne embraced her girlfriend tightly, clearly feeling relieved by her answer.

"Yea, yea, I know I'm the best", Pansy winked at her, wearing an almost sorrowful smile. "So, how do we go about convincing the Dark Lord of this whole charade?"

"I think we all know the best way to get that out there", Blaise chuckled. "Be seen leaving the bar with us tonight and it'll be all over the news tomorrow. You know Skeeter must have a fly or two on the walls anywhere you go."

They all agreed, this was the best way. They joked about what tomorrow's headlines could say: _Death Eaters in Love_ or _Mrs. Minister Malfoy?_

They each made bets on it before departing the bar, choosing to walk out the front door where they could easily be seen as opposed to their typical floo powder exit. They were all a bit too drunk to floo home safely anyway.

By the time Pansy and Draco got back to the manor, they were both crying from laughter. It reminded him of their days at Hogwarts, where they'd spend their time making fun of Potter and his pals. Oh how the times had changed.

They were walking down the hall to his room, when he saw the silhouette of Granger, standing there like a deer in headlights. She looked painfully uncomfortable.

It was then that Pansy noticed her, he could hear her giggling quietly enough that Granger surely wouldn't hear it. He quickly put on his serious face. He had enough masks to fill a closet with at this point.

"What are you doing here? It's 2am", he said in a stern voice.

"I, well...you weren't here for...for me to report to you", she responded. He had never seen her look so shy. _How adorable. Hermione Granger, speechless. I never thought I'd see the day._

"It really couldn't have waited until-", Draco was chuckling but cut himself off, quickly realizing why she had waited. Realizing she _couldn't_ have just gone to bed without telling him if she wanted to. Not after his instructions. "Right, let's hear it then."

She gave him the briefest report ever, seeming to rush her words out as quickly as they would go, and then there was a painful silence between the three of them.

Pansy's laughter broke the quiet. "You waited up to tell him THAT?", she practically turned red in the face, clutching her stomach in stitches. "To tell him you bonded with Daddy Malfoy? Proud of that are you? I mean really Granger, how pathetic, even for _you_ ", she spat, her laughter becoming hateful. Draco cringed. _Daddy Malfoy? Merlin, Pansy can you not?_

Draco hated to admit it, but he wished Pansy wouldn't have been so harsh to her. _Why the hell do I care?_ He forced a laugh to hide his thoughts.

"You should get some rest", Draco told her, trying to hide his grimace. She practically sprinted away in clear embarrassment so Draco ushered Pansy into his room.

As soon as the door was shut Draco lost his pokerface. "Pansy, don't be like that to her."

Pansy just about gave herself whiplash from turning so fast in shock to Draco's words. "Excuse me?", jaw hanging open.

"Just...she's a prisoner alright? Can't you just ignore her?", he asked.

She laughed spitefully, "You're kidding right? What, you care about her now?", she teased.

"Fuck no, I just...I don't know. She's a fucking prisoner alright? She's lived in the dungeon since May under the Dark Lord's orders. I think it's hard enough for her as it is so...just take it easy", he responded.

"So you don't _care_ but you definitely feel sympathy for her", Pansy scoffed, "never thought I'd see the day Draco Malfoy could sympathize with anyone."

"I _pity_ her", he clarified.

"Right", she said sarcastically with a smirk, "So are we reliving our Hogwarts days tonight or do I get my own boudoir?"

"Hilarious. You can stay in the room across the hall whenever we do these little publicity stunts", he informed her.

"Perfect, thank you _Minister_. Such a gentleman", she pinched his shoulder and sauntered out of the room.

Draco couldn't stop thinking about Granger, and wasn't tired, so he drank more. _No such thing as too much, I suppose._ He unbuttoned his shirt a bit and took a seat in front of his fireplace, running his fingers through his hair a few times.

~~~

 **Song** : Stressed - UPSAHL

Before Draco knew it, an hour had passed and he was thoroughly knackered, making his way towards the dungeons.

He took his wand out to unlock the door, and clumsily made his way down the stairs, his feet echoing the entire way.

There she was, sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, sitting on her cot. Somehow he knew she wouldn't be asleep.

"Come to laugh at me some more then?", Granger asked him angrily, sliding her legs down to dangle off the side of the cot.

"Can you blame me?", Draco responded confidently, eyes half glazed, "It's fun to see you get so flustered, Granger" She squirmed slightly. _Damn, I love that sight._

"I think your girlfriend had that job covered all on her own then", she retorted, narrowing her eyes hatefully at him. _Let's see if we can get you to a full burn then, love._

"Girlfriend?", he laughed. _Smartest witch of our age apparently isn't as smart as she thinks._ "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, Grangerrr", he slurred, and a smirk growing across his lips.

"Well _Malfoy_ , If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're wasted. I can smell you from here", she said with a scoff. _Sniffed me out have you?_

He took four long strides across the room before he reached her cot. He bent down to where she sat, not stopping until his face was mere inches from hers. "Then tell me, what have I been drinking?" He could see the shock on her face, and he loved it. Loved that he could make her cheeks go bright pink that way.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips automatically. He glanced down at hers, admiring the soft, supple look of them before asking, "or would you need to taste it to know?" _Say yes. Merlin, please say yes._

He tried to read the expression on her face but when she didn't even breathe in response, he glanced at her lips once more before taking a step back. Merlin, the self-control it took for him to take that step.

"Don't report to me anymore unless I specifically ask you to or if you think it's something I need to know - I don't like being interrupted like I was tonight", he said in an irritated tone, but Hermione was still inert where she sat.

He left the room, making his way up the stairs, and turning to lock the door without looking back at her. He was rock hard in his pants, and his body was overly warm from the excess of alcohol, his blood rushing from the tension that had filled the room. It was like an addictive chemical, and Merlin knows what an addict Draco could be.


	25. Play to win

**Song** : Joke's On You - Charlotte Lawrence

When Hermione woke up the next morning, her head was still spinning with thoughts of Malfoy. No matter how hard she pushed them away, they always seemed to resurface.

After eating her "mudblood" pancakes, she made her way upstairs to the library.

She heard voices coming from down the hall to Malfoy's wing, and she had no doubt they belonged to Malfoy and Pansy. She didn't dare glance that direction. Instead, she focused on moving towards the library, determined to search every last inch of it for books on what she was almost positive she was experiencing. It was the only explanation.

_Butterflies in her stomach, teakwood, mint, and firewhiskey. Heat, lots and lots of heat. Silvery-blue eyes. Pale, soft, pink lips, tempting her._

Hermione was determined to search every last inch of the library. She wouldn't leave without answers. Or so she thought.

She spent the next two weeks searching and searching until she thought her brain was going to combust. Occasionally she passed Malfoy in the hallways of the manor, but he refused to meet her eyes. She hadn't reported to him once, because he hadn't asked her to.

She felt strongly that this was some twisted game on his part. Teasing her, making her "flustered" for fun as he mentioned that night. And Merlin, it was working. And she hated him for it. Hated herself for it. _There has to be an explanation._

The only other option was that he was attracted to her, which was a laughable thought. Couldn't possibly be a consideration. He was disgusted by her parentage, that much was crystal clear. _A game. A sick, twisted game. If he plays, I can too, and Hermione Granger plays to win._

If he'd ignore her, she'd ignore him. Simple as that.

One night in September when she was reading to Lucius in the library, he interrupted her. "Is there a reason you haven't been reporting to my son anymore?", he asked.

"Are you not interested in this book? I was quite enjoying it myself", she joked, really not wanting to talk about Malfoy.

"Miss Granger, as much as I relish hearing your voice more often than I hear my own these days, I know how this story ends already. I'm interested in another", he said with zero expression.

She sighed, marking the page before closing the book and placing it on the table. "How did you know I ever did?", she asked him, genuinely curious.

"Bopsy is quite the informant", he told her, a smirk growing on his face.

"Well", she began, unsure how to phrase it without including her terrible embarrassment from that night. "I accidentally interrupted him and Pansy two weeks ago. He told me to stop reporting to him after that."

He scowled, "That floozy in my home? I told Draco to take his extracurriculars elsewhere." Lucius stood suddenly, shoving the tray of tea off the table in anger, its pieces shattering on the floor, tea spreading in its wake.

Hermione jumped back in shock, speechless and thoroughly taken aback by his reaction.

"Bopsy!", he called. The elf appeared instantly, ready to serve whatever request he had. "I'm retiring for the night. Clean this up and make sure Miss Granger wasn't scathed by my outburst", and then he was walking out the doors.

Bopsy quickly disappeared the mess and when Hermione assured the elf she was fine, Bopsy wobbled after Lucius.

_Shit. Shit, I probably need to tell Malfoy this. But I don't want to...but I have to._

Her feet decided for her.

Before she could stop herself she was knocking on the door to Malfoy's study. There was no answer, so she walked to the door of his bedroom, adjacent to his study, and knocked before she lost the nerve. "Come in", a gruff voice called, so she did.

Hermione struggled not to let her jaw fall to the ground when the door swung open. Malfoy was standing with one arm leaned against the fireplace, a drink in his other hand. He wore his usual black dress pants with his belt undone, swung low on his hips. This was almost painfully obvious due to the fact that he was shirtless.

The fireplace flickered, lighting up his pale chest in the dark room, dancing across the pieces of gold hair on his head, as well as the ones at the bottom of his stomach which disappeared into his pants. His torso was softly chiseled, his muscles well-defined, but appeared soft and incredibly appealing. Begging to be touched.

His cheeks were tinged slightly pink from his drink, and the rings on his fingers reflected from the fire, wrapped gently around his glass. His eyes appeared warmer in the orange-tinted light, more blue this way. They peeked out from under the stray, messy strands that fell across his forehead.

_Holy fuck. It's Stockholm Syndrome. It's a game, and I'm playing to win. But...holy fuck._

He didn't hide the surprise in his face when he saw her standing in the doorway. She prayed he didn't notice how long she stared at him before speaking. _Why am I here again? Oh my Godric say something Hermione._

The words spilled out of her mouth about what happened with Lucius, and somehow she barely had to think for them to flow out of her.

Malfoy appeared to be contemplating something. He slowly turned and strode over to the small table in his room, placed his glass on it, and took a seat. He beckoned for her to take the seat on the other side of the table in front of the fireplace.

Hermione's heart hammered in her chest as she walked over and gently took a seat, waiting for his response.

"What did you tell him", he asked.

"What?", she couldn't think straight with him looking this way. With him this close.

"What did you tell my father specifically that made him react that way?", he clarified, staring into the fire and taking another sip of his drink.

"I...told him about that night", she said. "How I saw you and Pansy", she rushed the words out to clarify. _Not about you making me feel a way I definitely shouldn't have that night when you came to see me in the dungeon. A way I shouldn't feel right now but do anyway._

Malfoy chuckled softly, leaning back in the chair and crossing a leg to rest over his knee. "He never had a problem with Pansy until my mother did."

There was a pregnant pause.

"He must miss her terribly. Both of you must", she commented in almost a whisper. "The first book he asked me to read...I know it was hers - Narcissa's. I saw her name in the back of it, he wrote a note for her in it."

"When you told me what book he asked you to read to him, I immediately knew why. He didn't pick that book by chance. That "good book" I recommended was hers as well", he smirked softly at her.

She nodded, remembering the way she refused to admit directly to picking his recommendation. Refused to admit that she loved the book too.

"My mother spent most of her days in the library as you do now", he told her, appearing to reminisce on a memory he didn't elaborate on. "You know, maybe it isn't the best idea for you to continue meeting with him everyday."

_Why not?_

"He seemed to be doing better until he found out about Pansy. I mean that", she told him.

"I don't disagree, but he has to return to his Death Eater duties fairly soon anyway", he said, swirling his drink before finishing it off.

"Return? What do you mean", she asked. _He's blind for Godric's sake, what can he even do for Voldemort?_

"My father was ordered to return to the Dark Lord's side in November. He gave him six months to adapt to being blind - that's as far as his 'courtesy' - if you can even call it that - goes", he sighed deeply, sinking further into the chair.

"How can he possibly be expected to aid Voldemort while he's _blind_? It's not as if he can duel or anything of the like", she said, slowly growing frustrated and defensive of Lucius at the thought.

"Yes, but he can fulfill other duties. As long as we aren't at war, we don't need too many for the battlefield anyway", he responded.

"Malfoy...what happened? I mean, how did he, you know, become blind?", she finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her since the first night she read to Lucius.

Malfoy scoffed at that. "Apparently killing Mother wasn't enough punishment for the Malfoys. The Dark Lord blinded him with a curse of his own making. He insisted that he "shouldn't have to see Narcissa in photos - should be ashamed by her betrayal, ashamed of her defacing the family name."

Hermione was taken aback by this. Voldemort truly was repulsive. A poor excuse for a human, if he even qualified as one anymore.

"All that, and you still support him? Obey his every command? Remain at his beck and call?", she pushed. _Voldemort may not be human, but Malfoy is. I can see it. Behind the front he puts on. I hear it in his voice - this bothers him._

He suddenly grew angry and defensive, quickly rising from his seat to tower over her with his intimidating height. "Don't speak as if you understand. You never have and you never will. As I said, you will no longer read to my father everyday. Show yourself out."

It wasn't a suggestion or thought this time, but a command.

Hermione felt too frustrated to argue. _I see you. Why do you have to be so bloody stubborn?_

Without another word, she stood and walked out the door, closing it loudly behind her. She made her way to the dungeon angrily.

_Play to win. Play to win. Play to win._


	26. Big Plans

**Song** : Habits of My Heart - Jaymes Young

Pansy stood in front of Draco, wearing the same clothes from the night before. "Sooo, _Minister_ _of deceit_ , how the hell are we supposed to continue this act?", she asked him, leaning against the door frame of his bedroom.

He rolled his eyes at her comment. "Well I was right about Skeeter - seen the paper this morning? I'd say I'm the best fit for the job, wouldn't you agree?"

Pansy gave a slow, sarcastic clap, "Yes, well done, _bravo_. Seriously though, what now?"

"Unfortunately, we'll have to continue to be seen together. Just long enough for the Dark Lord to redirect his 'pureblood procreating' plans to someone else", he told her.

" _Unfortunately_ ", she mocked, "as if you don't _love_ being seen with me", she shoved his shoulder playfully.

"Right, because what could be better than pretending to date someone who has no interest in men, and who I see as a sister? I couldn't ask for a better life", he teased.

Pansy laughed before going back to the problem at hand, "What will this entail then? Parading around in public while holding hands? You're still considered very much in danger by everyone."

"I think for the time being, occasionally meeting at The Inebriatus and being seen leaving together will be enough", he stated.

"Okay...you really think this will work? I...Daphne...I can't let her get hurt by our pretend relationship. I can't lose her Draco, you understand that don't you?", her eyes were almost glassy with fear.

Draco pulled her into a tight hug, "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it would work. Pans, I meant what I said, you're the closest thing to a sister I've ever had. I won't let anything happen to you or Daphne, I promise."

She nodded, appearing to feel reassured from Draco's words, then told him goodbye before leaving the manor.

~~~

 **Song** : Ugly - Jaira Burns

Around midday, the Dark Lord called Draco for a meeting unexpectedly.

"Good afternoon Minister, how are you?", he hissed.

"I'm well, my Lord, I hope you are as well", he responded with zero emotion.

"Considering your new relationship, which I learned about from today's Daily Prophet, I'm thrilled. How did this come to be?", he asked almost suspiciously.

"I've known Pansy Parkinson since I was a boy at Hogwarts, we were always drawn to each other, my Lord", he responded, forcing a smile.

"Excellent. I assume it's only a matter of time until your relationship progresses, seeing as you're quite comfortable with each other?", he questioned.

"As soon as you wish, my Lord. I know the future of pureblood lines is important to you", he said.

The Dark Lord nodded in approval, interlacing his bony fingers together. "And how is the mudblood you're watching over for me? Yaxley's work is holding up?"

"Yes, my Lord. Surprisingly, Yaxley's work has served sufficiently. There have been no issues keeping the mudblood under control", Draco told him.

He hummed in approval, "Tell me if anything should change. I have big plans for that one that cannot under any circumstances be compromised, understood?"

Draco's blood ran cold. "Yes, my Lord. Of course". _What does he have planned?_

The Dark Lord dismissed him, leaving Draco's thoughts overwhelmed with just how soon he'd be expected to "progress" with Pansy, and concerned with Granger's fate.

~~~

 **Song** : Salt in the Wound - Julien Baker

Draco spent the rest of the day drowning in his thoughts.

He paced the manor, then sat in his study and drank. Paced the manor again, then drank in his room. Repeating the process over and over.

_Progress? I just told Pansy it would be fine and for all I know, he could be expecting children from us within the year. Fuck. I said I'd protect her and Daphne. I promised. I already fucked up._

The firewhiskey burned his throat until he consumed so much, it was simply numb.

_"Big plans" - Salazar, don't kill her. She doesn't deserve to die. She's helpless. It's just wrong. What the hell does he have planned?_

He felt constricted in his clothes. Like he was suffocating. Overheating. He quickly removed his shirt and loosened his belt, trying to cool down.

The day had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Draco hadn't even noticed when the sun had gone down. Didn't even remember lighting the fireplace.

He stood, deep in thought, circling the same paths over and over while he leaned against the fireplace, drink in hand. A knock came at the door. "Come in", he said automatically.

The door slowly opened to reveal Granger, looking hesitant and borderline afraid of him. Her expression changed when their eyes locked, but it was unreadable. He was too drunk, his brain too fuzzy, to even question why she was there.

The surprise was likely clear on his face, but he didn't have the energy to care about it. Not that he would have cared if she showed up while he was sober.

She stood there in silence for a long time, appearing to be dazed. _Welcome to the club._

Suddenly Granger's voice filled the room in a hurried pace as she filled him in on what had gone down in the library that night.

He stood there unmoving, his brain processing her words more slowly than usual. Draco slowly turned and strode over to the table in front of his fireplace, placed his glass on it, and took a seat. He waved for her to join him in the seat on the other side of the table.

She moved so silently that he wasn't even sure she wasn't still in his doorway until he saw her gently lower herself into the adjacent chair.

"What did you tell him", he asked. _Might as well get to the point._

"What?", she asked as if she had no clue what he meant.

"What did you tell my father specifically that made him react that way?", he clarified, staring into the fire and taking another sip of his drink.

"I...told him about that night", she said. "How I saw you and Pansy", she rushed the words out. _Ah yes, father's favorite witch._

Draco chuckled softly, leaning back in the chair and crossing a leg to rest over his knee. "He never had a problem with Pansy until my mother did."

There was a pregnant pause.

"He must miss her terribly. Both of you", she commented in almost a whisper. "The first book he asked me to read...I know it was hers, Narcissa's. I saw her name in the back of it, he wrote a note for her in it." _Well done, detective. Smartest witch of our age. Must've taken a lot of digging to figure that one out._

"When you told me what book he asked you to read to him, I immediately knew why. He didn't pick that book by chance. That "good book" I recommended was hers as well", Draco told her. He didn't even have the energy to be snarky.

He continued when she didn't make any audible sound of understanding.

"My mother spent most of her days in the library as you do now", he told her, reminiscing on how much of his childhood he spent there with her. "You know, maybe it isn't the best idea for you to continue meeting with him everyday."

"He seemed to be doing better until he found out about Pansy, I mean that", she told him. _I'm sure he was, Granger, but I'd rather you not get your throat sliced open the next time my father has a blind outburst._

"I don't disagree, but he has to return to his Death Eater duties fairly soon anyway", he said, swirling his drink before finishing it off.

"Return? What do you mean", she asked.

"My father was ordered to return to the Dark Lord's side in November. He gave him six months to adapt to being blind - that's as far as his 'courtesy', if you can even call it that, goes", he sighed deeply, sinking further into the chair.

"How can he possibly be expected to aid Voldemort while he's _blind_? It's not as if he can duel or anything of the like", she said, appearing to grow frustrated.

"Yes, but he can fulfill other duties. As long as we aren't at war, we don't need too many for the battlefield anyway", he responded.

"Malfoy...what happened? I mean, how did he, you know, become blind?", she finally asked, clearly having wanted to ask it well before now.

Draco scoffed, "Apparently, killing Mother wasn't enough punishment for the Malfoys. The Dark Lord blinded him with a curse of his own making. He insisted that he 'shouldn't have to see Narcissa in photos - should be ashamed by her betrayal, ashamed of her defacing the family name' ". He clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration.

"All that, and you still support him? Obey his every command? Remain at his beck and call?", she pushed. Accused.

Draco suddenly grew angry and defensive, quickly rising from his seat to tower over her with his intimidating height. "Don't speak as if you understand. You never have and you never will. As I said, you will no longer read to my father everyday. Show yourself out."

He said this knowing fully that she had to obey.

_Who the hell does she think she is? Judging my choices? There isn't a choice when it comes to family. You do what you have to do for them._

Without another word, she rose from her chair and walked out the door, making sure to shut the door behind her.

 _Here I was worried about what future the Dark Lord held for her, and she has the audacity to judge me when she has never been in a situation like mine. Never had her family threatened and used to blackmail her._ He had.


	27. Under your skin

**Song** : midnight love - Girl in Red

_Play to win. How do I win? I need the upperhand. How do I get the upper hand? The old Hermione would research until her wits end. The old Hermione would find a way to win his game, whatever it took._

Hermione had begrudgingly decided against her theory of Stockholm Syndrome. She had found nothing to prove it, and more evidence against it than anything.

The criteria she found for Stockholm Syndrome in the Malfoy library were:

 _Victim develops positive feelings toward their captor_ \- she definitely did not feel positively for him. Her heart racing and her cheeks turning red could be attributed to fear, intimidation, shock, a number of things.

 _Victim develops negative feelings towards anyone who could help them_ \- also false. She would _gladly_ flee the manor if she could. She hadn't physically tried it, but she had a feeling it wouldn't end well if she did.

 _Victim begins to see captors's humanity and believe they have the same goals and values_ \- humanity? Of that, she wasn't sure. But the same goals and values? _Definitely not._

It would also require that there was no previous relationship between the victim and captor. Relationship was a bit too strong a term for how Hermione and Malfoy felt towards each other before. This was enough solidity to back up the fact that she did _not_ have Stockholm Syndrome.

Rather than anger herself over her situation or her feelings for the millionth time, she redirected her goals to two things:

1) Play and _win_ Malfoy's game. (Which included figuring out what his game was...)

2) Figure out what Voldemort truly wanted with her (and get the hell out before it was too late). She wasn't sold on the 'using her to draw the Incendiaries out' concept considering everyone was likely dead. Voldemort was arrogant, but not stupid.  
  
She had a strong feeling that she would have to complete the tasks in that order. She could do 1 without 2, but it wasn't likely she could do 2 without 1.

She took stock of what she knew:

_I am at Malfoy Manor. My friends are dead. There is still a group, known as the Incendiaries, that are fighting Voldemort's reign. I'm most likely the only person left alive from the Order. Nagini is still alive - Voldemort's last horcrux. That's why Harry couldn't defeat him. I don't have a wand. Lucius is blind. Narcissa is dead. Draco is...? Playing a game. Right. I'm branded with a dragon from an unknown blood spell of some sort - likely dark magic, and I don't know what it does._

_Wait - I'm most likely the only person left alive from the Order, but why does that matter to Voldemort?_

_I'm the only one who knows of the Horcruxes. I'm the only one who knows Nagini is his last Horcrux. I'm the only one who knows how to kill Voldemort. That's it._

But that didn't explain everything - _Why does it matter? There's no reason he should keep me here rather than kill me if I am the only one who knows. If anyone else from the Order is still alive, what good is keeping me here?_

She needed answers, and she knew she couldn't find them in the library.

She had asked Malfoy why she was here, and his answer seemed confident but vague. Surely he knew more than he was letting on.

Malfoy was the answer.

Hermione would be starting a new game. One of her own creation. And what would she do? _Play. To. Win. Screw his game._

_Malfoy is a man, well, boy. Not very mature really. All men have a weakness. He is human, so he has to have one. But surely it isn't as obvious as...no._

She argued with herself for a while, trying to decide the best plan of action to find out what she needed to know. She didn't care about his game anymore, this was about hers.

_Find his weakness, exploit it, find out what I need to know. If all else fails, I'll look through his stuff. Actually, I'll do both. Not like I have anything else to do._

Considering she didn't see him very often, this would be hard to do. He was always in his office, and now that she wasn't meeting with his father, she had no reason to see him at all. She'd have to make one.

She immediately began to make her way towards Malfoy's study, knocked on the door, then walked in without waiting for a response.

Light was streaming into his office through the curtains, there was a cup of black coffee - not tea, on the desk in front of Malfoy. _Interesting._

He looked up at her in shock but she spoke before he had the chance to say something snarky. "What am I expected to do with myself all day?"

He leaned back in his chair, twirling a quill between his fingers, "You're a smart witch, Granger. I'm sure you can figure something out", he said with a slight smirk.

"Well you won't let me read to Lucius anymore, and it's rather monotonous sitting in the library or dungeon all day alone", she responded as she crossed her arms.

"So you want a babysitter? Want to spend time with me do you?", he quirked a suggestive eyebrow, but she was prepared for this. She was learning his game.

"Maybe I do", she watched his reaction intensely, looking for any sign of positive or negative feelings towards her response.

The expression dropped from his face but it twitched - faltered. There was something there he didn't want her to see, but he hadn't hid it quickly enough. _I knew it._

"We have plenty of books to fill your obsession, go get one", he said coldly. _Oh, this was too easy._ She smiled, nodded, then left for the library.

As soon as Hermione selected a new book for herself from Section N, she went straight back to Malfoy's study. She walked in without knocking this time, closed the door behind her, and went to sit by the fire, facing him completely.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?", he demanded, rising from his seat.

"I got a book", she smiled devilishly. _Too. Damn. Easy._ "What's wrong? Am I bothering you Malfoy? The _Minister of Magic_ is that easily disturbed?"

He ground his teeth together, causing his jawline to tense against the skin. "Not in the slightest", he said through his teeth.

Without another word, he went back to his seat and continued working. Hermione opened the book and began to read.

_I can't believe I forgot just how easy it was to get under Draco Malfoy's skin._


	28. Arcturus's Failure

**Song** : hoax - Taylor Swift

Surely Granger didn't expect to repeat her actions from the previous day.

It was clear - she was _trying_ to annoy him. And she had. But there was no way in hell Draco would ever admit that. He was too prideful for it.

She wanted to play games? Fine, Draco was a pro. She had no clue what she was in for.

Draco took a shower, dressed for the day, and went to his study to resume his work. She wasn't there. He exhaled in relief, but a part of him couldn't help but be disappointed.

Her visit had spiced up his day, undoubtedly. But again, he was far too prideful to ever admit that, not even to himself.

Only half an hour had passed when his Dark Mark burned and he was summoned to the Dark Lord's side. Whatever he thought it may be about, Theo's death was the last thing on his list.

~~~

Draco sat in his Minister seat. His vision had gone blurry, his ears ringing. Nothing but jumbled chaos.

Curses shot out of the Dark Lord's wand in anger. Jets of light flying every which way. Shouting, screaming, and crying filled the room.

Arcturus Nott had returned. And the Dark Lord wasn't pleased with what he brought with him. Or rather, _failed_ to bring back - living Death Eaters.

They had levitated the bodies in one by one, until finally Theo's body was brought forward. He had already started decaying - they could see it, smell it even.

Draco faintly remembered seeing Pansy vomit, Daphne cry, and Blaise yell out in anger, before everything went fuzzy for him.

"What did I tell you Nott? I said figure out what's going on across Europe, and what do you do? You _dare_ return to this place with dead Death Eaters and _no_ answers?", the Dark Lord shot curse after curse at Arcturus.

He would surely kill him, but he wasn't going to make it easy. That wasn't his style. It was too merciful.

Draco didn't remember anything after that. Didn't remember how he got home either. It wasn't until he sulked into his study that he felt like a bucket of cold water had dropped on his head when he found it unoccupied.

_Granger._

She was in her regular, fitted, all black uniform which he had chosen for her. She was looking at the shelves of books in his study when she turned to see him, holding a half-empty glass of firewhiskey.

All he felt was anger. "Are you mad?", Draco yelled at her, "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Her eyes were hooded and the fireplace danced in her glossy eyes. She slowly walked towards him, put a finger to his chest, and took a long sip of her drink before saying "Calm down, Malfoy, my library is closed so I didn't have anywhere else to be."

" _Your_ library?", he asked hysterically.

"Well it's like you said, no one else seems to use it...so it kind of is mine", she giggled at that and took another sip. Her words were slurred, her cheeks rosy.

"Are you drunk, Granger?", he asked before redirecting his focus to the glass in her hand. He grabbed it from her, "Well this is _my_ firewhiskey, which I remember being full before I left." He downed the rest of it.

"Well my apologies _Master Malfoy_ ", she said in an exaggerated voice, "I didn't want it to go to waste." She walked over and sat in the chair across the desk that directly faced his usual seat. _Well, make yourself comfortable then._

Draco scoffed before making his way behind the desk to pull out a new bottle of firewhiskey and popping it open. He grabbed a second glass and proceeded to pour drinks for the both of them, sliding hers across the desk.

He downed his glass, refilled it, and downed it once again.

She slowly took a sip of hers before speaking, "Is something wrong, or do you always drink this aggressively?"

"You're one to talk", he responded bluntly, pointing a finger at her with the hand that wrapped around his glass. He kicked his feet up on the desk and proceeded to down the drink and refill yet again.

"Well I'm a prisoner, I'll take what I can get", she downed hers and offered her glass for him to refill it, he did. "What's your excuse?"

"My friend is dead", he stated plainly. It was a fact. No point pretending it hadn't happened.

She laughed loudly at this and he stared at her blankly. _The fuck?_

After she calmed down and caught her breath, crows feet from her smile still lingering on her face, she said, "I truly don't mean to be insensitive, but welcome to the club. All of my friends are dead."

She sipped her drink quickly to avoid saying more, but her body was already well past buzzing. She felt much more comfortable than she would have sober, and never imagined she'd be comfortable having a drink with Draco Malfoy.

When it was clear Draco wasn't going to say anything else, she blurted out the question, "Who?", straight to the point.

"Theodore Nott", he responded. _Theo._ "Another Slytherin from Hogwarts - our year."

"Were you close?", she sipped again.

Draco looked at her thoughtfully before deciding it wouldn't hurt him to talk to her. Wouldn't do him any good not to either. "Close enough. Not like there are many young Death Eaters to befriend right?", he laughed darkly.

"No", she said quietly, "I suppose not", her eyes going to the floor.

"I shouldn't even be telling you this", he said, swirling his drink and chuckling at the situation, "it's classified information".

"Ah yes, because you know I'll be rushing straight to inform Rita Skeeter the second you tell me anything", she said sarcastically. She went to refill her drink but he did it for her without thinking. He nodded in response, chuckling lightly.

They sat in silence both finishing another drink before Draco couldn't stop himself from asking, "Your scar..from my Aunt Bellatrix. It's still there after all these months?"

Draco remembered seeing it when he performed the Sanguis Stigma, but it could have faded or even disappeared by now, he didn't know the exact nature of what Bellatrix had done. Granger tilted her head in curiosity - surely wondering why he was asking, but then nodded.

"Show me", he said automatically.

She wordlessly stood from her chair and walked around the desk until she stood between Draco's knees. His heartbeat quickened at the close proximity. She slid her sleeve up to her elbow to reveal the "mudblood" carved into her arm.

Before Draco could realize what he was doing, he reached out towards it. His left hand steadied her slightly shaking arm, and he ran his right index finger across the scar lightly.

She shivered lightly, he knew his fingers were cold, but was that why?

He found himself staring at her longingly, her skin burning intensely into his. She slowly looked up to meet his eyes and he darted his tongue out to wet his lips.

He was running on autopilot at this point.

Draco loosened his grip on her arm, sliding his hand down until it circled her wrist, dragging his fingers across the palm of her hand.

His breath hitched when she reached out to touch his hair softly, running her fingers through it.

Electricity shot through his body and his eyes shut as he breathed out heavily at the sensation.

Her other hand reached up, her thumb gliding across his bottom lip. He shivered in response and gently bit her thumb between his teeth, his eyes still closed. As if he could pretend it was a dream. It felt like one.

He released her thumb before "Granger"escaped from his lips.

"Do I smell like firewhiskey", she asked quietly, as if she hadn't meant to. Her voice was barely audible.

Her thumb still rested against his lips temptingly, so he sucked it into his mouth softly, causing her to gasp. He released it, allowing her to pull her hand back.

"I'd have to taste it to know", Draco whispered, eyes opening to focus on her. She reciprocated.

He slowly rose from his chair to stand over her, bodies dangerously close but not quite touching...

Suddenly there was a knock at the door causing them both to startle. "Come in", Draco called out, his eyes not leaving hers.

The door opened and Granger quickly broke their eye contact. They both turned to see Lucius walking in, his snake cane always in hand.

"Do you need something, father?", he asked in a bored tone. The energy in the room had shifted severely in a matter of seconds.

"Yes", he paused and slowly faced Granger's direction, "but she doesn't need to hear it."

She gasped before quickly darting around the eldest Malfoy and departed without so much as a glance towards either of them.

"Draco, I heard about Theo", he told him.

"Ah yes, come to play the role of father now have we? To comfort your son as he mourns one of his best friends? How considerate of you", Draco scoffed and plopped into his chair once again.

"Minister of Magic and still acting like a student at Hogwarts. When will you ever learn?", Lucius asked sarcastically.

Draco simply poured another drink and downed it without responding. He didn't want to talk.

So instead, they sat and drank together in silence for the next two hours. Malfoy men bonding at its finest.


	29. Show Me

**Song** : She - Harry Styles

Hermione was feeling thoroughly motivated by her success in the previous day's endeavors. She had spent the entire day in Malfoy's study reading, and had even finished the book she started that morning.

After breakfast, she made her way to the library first and was surprised to find that the doors were locked. She stared in confusion, completely at a loss as to why they would suddenly be barring her entry.

_Malfoy._

He was playing with her, but she wouldn't have it. She marched straight to his study, not bothering to knock before entering, determined to give him a piece of her mind, but he wasn't there.

It was empty, but his chair was scooted back in a way that seemed as if he left suddenly but had been in here previously.

Deciding this may be her only chance to snoop in his study, she got to it.

She practically tore everything apart, but took great care to put everything exactly where it had previously been. All of his desk drawers were locked - he was painfully thorough. No hidden doors or compartments that she could find without a wand.

Nothing but books and alcohol. So she helped herself.

Taking a bottle of firewhiskey from one of his cabinets and a clean glass, she kicked back in his chair and drank until the bottle was almost empty.

After two hours passed, Hermione poured the last of the firewhiskey into her glass and began inspecting the shelves. Mostly books about the Malfoy family, dark magic, slytherins. All very predictable Malfoy content.

That was when the door flung open to reveal a very disheveled-looking Malfoy.

Her body was warm and buzzing - she didn't even flinch at his dramatic entrance. She simply looked him up and down, continuing to sip her drink.

His expression grew irritated, his eyebrows arching, "Are you mad? What the hell are you doing in here?"

She slowly walked towards him, put a finger to his chest, and took a long sip of her drink before saying "Calm down, Malfoy, my library is closed so I didn't have anywhere else to be." He was clearly floored by her boldness. Exactly like she wanted him to be.

" _Your_ library?", he asked hysterically.

"Well it's like you said, no one else seems to use it...so it kind of is mine", she giggled at that and took another sip. Her cheeks felt warm and she was thoroughly entertained by his reactions.

"Are you drunk, Granger?", he asked before grabbing the glass out of her hand, "Well this is _my_ firewhiskey, which I remember being full before I left." He downed the rest of it.

"Well my apologies _Master Malfoy_ ", she said in an exaggerated voice, "I didn't want it to go to waste." She walked over and sat in the chair across the desk that directly faced his usual seat. _Git._

Draco scoffed before making his way behind the desk to pull out a new bottle of firewhiskey and popping it open. He grabbed a second glass and proceeded to pour drinks for the both of them, sliding hers across the desk. _Finally, some common courtesy._

He downed his glass, refilled it, and downed it once again. _Bloody alcoholic - why am I not surprised._

She slowly took a sip of hers before speaking, "Is something wrong, or do you always drink this aggressively?"

"You're one to talk", he responded bluntly, pointing a finger at her with the hand that wrapped around his glass. He kicked his feet up on the desk and proceeded to down the drink and refill yet again. _Merlin, is catching up to my level of inebriation part of the game too?_

"Well I'm a prisoner, I'll take what I can get", she downed hers and offered her glass for him to refill it, he did. "What's your excuse?"

"My friend is dead", he stated plainly. _Shit. Well, me too actually._

She laughed loudly at this and he stared at her blankly.

After she calmed down and caught her breath she said, "I truly don't mean to be insensitive, but welcome to the club. All of my friends are dead." _Well, actually I'm not sure I do care if your Death Eater friends get what was coming to them all along._

When it was clear Draco wasn't going to say anything else, she blurted out the question, "Who?" The curiosity getting the better of her.

"Theodore Nott", he responded. "Another Slytherin from Hogwarts - our year."

"Were you close?", she sipped again. She thought she recognized the name but she couldn't be sure.

"Close enough", he responded, "Not like there are many young Death Eaters to befriend right?", he laughed darkly. _Well he's not wrong._

"No", she said quietly, "I suppose not", her eyes going to the floor.

"I shouldn't even be telling you this", he said, swirling his drink and chuckling softly, "it's classified information." _Classified?_ She could've laughed.

"Ah yes, because you know I'll be rushing straight to inform Rita Skeeter the second you tell me anything", she said sarcastically. She went to refill her drink but he did it for her. She tried to hide her surprise at this. It seemed like an oddly natural gesture.

They sat in silence and both finished another drink before he broke it, "Your scar..from my Aunt Bellatrix. It's still there after all these months?"

She tilted her head curiously at him but then nodded. _He knows I do, he saw me when he performed the spell. Oh Merlin, don't tell me he's feeling pity now._

"Show me", he said plainly. _Okay._

She rose from her chair and walked around the desk until she stood between Draco's knees. She hadn't meant to go that far, but it was like her body moved of its own accord and she was frozen.

She slid her sleeve up to her elbow to reveal the "mudblood" carved into her arm. She hated looking at it, and avoided it as often as realistically possible.

Her heart rate skyrocketed when he reached out towards it. His left hand gripped her shaking arm, and he ran his right index finger across the scar. _Human reaction. This is normal. This doesn't make me feel any certain way. It's PTSD from my scar._

She shivered lightly. Trying to convince herself it was from his cold rings digging lightly into her arms.

She felt his gaze and slowly looked up to meet his eyes as he darted his tongue out to wet his lips. Her legs practically collapsed from underneath her.

Malfoy loosened his grip on her arm, sliding his hand down until it circled her wrist, dragging his fingers across the palm of her hand, causing a chill to shoot up her spine and a heat to fill her body rapidly.

She couldn't help it when she reached out to touch the soft blond strands on his head, running her fingers through it.

He shut his eyes and breathed out heavily from her touch, and she hated how pleasing it felt to have him react in such a way.

Her other hand reached up, her thumb gliding across his bottom lip. He gently bit her thumb between his teeth, causing the blush in her cheeks to deepen.

He released her thumb before "Granger"escaped from his lips. _Malfoy._ It took every bit of willpower she had not to say it.

"Do I smell like firewhiskey", she asked in barely a whisper. She hadn't meant to ask it aloud. Simply thought it.

Her thumb still rested against his lips, almost unwilling to move. He sucked it into his mouth softly, causing her to gasp. It felt amazing. Tempting. Thrilling. Wrong, but so right. Her body was on fire from the most intimate contact she had ever had with him.

He released it, allowing her to pull her hand back. She was afraid to know what would happen if she didn't withdraw it.

"I'd have to taste it to know", Malfoy whispered, eyes opening to focus on her. She reciprocated. _Please._

He slowly rose from his chair to stand over her, bodies dangerously close but not quite touching...

He towered over her intimidatingly, and it thrilled her.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door causing them both to startle. "Come in", Draco called out, his eyes not leaving hers.

The door opened and she quickly broke their eye contact, swiveling to face the door. In that moment, she had never been more grateful that Lucius Malfoy was blind.

"Do you need something, father?", Malfoy asked in a bored tone. _This is quite possibly the worst situation I could have imagined. I need to leave._

"Yes", he paused and slowly faced Hermione, her blood ran cold, "but she doesn't need to hear it."

She gasped before quickly darting around Lucius and out the door. She didn't even look or say anything before she was gone, practically sprinting to the dungeon.


	30. The Devil Himself

**Song** : Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

With the amount of attacks that happened over the past months, confidence in the Dark Lord's power began to wane. And he knew this.

Because of this, he insisted that Draco host a party at the Manor as a "show of strength and unity" as he put it. This was not optional.

It had been planned for a few weeks now, and the success of it was even more vital in his eyes now that Arcturus Nott had returned with multiple Death Eaters in tow.

Although he couldn't remember, Draco's friends informed him that Nott Sr. was dead before they had even been dismissed that day. They all watched. Draco dissociated.

The allegiance of the Dark Territories was weakening, so this was what the Dark Lord saw as a proper solution. And it was to take place tonight.

Draco tried to avoid his thoughts of Granger's thumb between his lips but they were unsuccessful. He would fill out a document, and soon after find himself fantasizing about her. _Her body._ Over and over this went on throughout the day.

He refused to believe it was her he was attracted to. No, she was simply a girl, and he was lonely.

It was even worse that she would have to move out of the dungeon for the night - putting her closer to him. Right across the hall to be exact.

Ever since that night when Draco and Pansy were seen outside The Inebriatus, she would go home with him to the manor often enough to ensure they were known as together to the public. She would stay in the room across the hall from Draco, then go to Daphne's place the following morning.

It had taken her no time to fill the closets, dresser, and bathroom with all of her things for when she was there. Typical Pansy.

But tonight, Granger would be there.

The party was to take place in the East Wing Gathering Hall, meaning everything there needed to be closed off for tonight, including the dungeon.

Draco sent Bopsy to retrieve her and make sure she moved into the room across the hall and stayed there until the next day.

Could he not trust himself to be in close proximity with her after last night? His thoughts made conclusions of their own, that didn't mean they reflected his physical actions. He couldn't allow them to. If he did... _I won't._

Draco made a point to stay away from the West Wing, his room, his study, and especially the room across the hall, for the remainder of the day. _I need to work on preparations for the party._ That's what he told himself at least. He mostly watched as the house-elves did the rest.

~~~

 **Song** : People Are Strangers - Zella Day

Draco waited as long as he could to go back to his room, but eventually he would run out of time to get ready if he didn't suck it up.

He showered, fixed his hair, and dressed for the night. A black turtleneck, forest green suit jacket, and black pants. _Slytherin pride_ he chuckled to himself.

As he walked out of his room, he had to pass hers to go downstairs and begin accepting the guests. He paused for a moment, hearing music from behind the door. Landslide.

It was a muggle song, but it was his mother's favorite. That was how he knew it, and he heard it enough times growing up that it had become one he fancied himself.

He leaned against the wall for a moment and listened to it, thinking of his mother. Remembering a simpler time with her. A time when she was alive, and he hadn't sold his soul to the devil himself.

He tried to ignore the tug at his heart. The similarities he constantly found between his mother and Granger were growing uncanny. She was almost...comforting to be around?

He shook off the feelings and made his way downstairs, ready to put on the show he had long since mastered.


	31. Landslide

**Song** : Streets - Doja Cat

Hermione slammed the door of the dungeon shut and slid down it, still breathing heavily from having practically ran away from Malfoy's study.

She touched her thumb to her lips, imaging they were his. _Wishing_ they were his. What he had done was... _wow._

He had barely done _anything,_ and yet, it did _everything_ to her. And she wanted more. Craved it.

She pressed her thighs together trying to ease the ache that had survived even the embarrassment of Lucius walking in, whether he could see what was happening or not.

_This is what I wanted. He told me to show him my scar, and I got too close. I did that._

_But he touched me._

Those cold rings against her skin, his calloused fingertips sliding down her arm, against her scar, against her hand. She shivered at the memory.

The way his hold on her was tight, but she hadn't felt scared or in danger. She almost felt...possessed? Owned? Protected? She couldn't find the right word for it, but it was comforting for some reason.

As if there was something behind his actions. Her skin had buzzed from the contact, growing until her entire body was surging with energy and alertness, had become over-sensitive in the best way.

She could smell him. Feel him. She wanted to _taste_ him. And he wanted to taste her. He said as much, didn't he? _No, he said 'I'd have to taste it to know', not 'I want to taste it'. What if I'm romanticizing this entire thing? Am I that lonely?_

What was wrong with her? Was she truly that weak and starved for attention? For human interaction and skin on skin? _How humiliating. But he looked so...it wasn't just me. I know it wasn't._

The way his breathing pattern changed when she touched his hair, the way his eyes glazed over, _he felt it too._ But felt what? Attraction? No, it wasn't that simple. It was more... _electric_

Hermione felt a string between the two of them, one that tugged when she was too far. It tugged when he was in the West Wing and her in the East Wing. When they were apart. She felt so drawn to him, but she had to fight it.

_But this is it, this is his weakness. This is how I'll win the game. Win my life, my freedom._

She couldn't allow herself to fantasize that it was something more. Something real. It wasn't anything more than human nature that they were of the opposite sex and living in the same place, both clearly quite lonely.

_No, he has Pansy. Although his reaction to me calling her his girlfriend was odd. He probably is against the idea of real relationships. Asshole._

Not that she cared...

But she still felt that string, like a tug behind her navel when the words came from his lips, "show me". When he grazed her scar, when he tugged her thumb between his lips. _What was that?_

It certainly wasn't anything she had experienced before. Not with Viktor Krum, not with Cormac, not with Ron. _Play the game. Play to win. Get out. Focus, Hermione._

She was sure hours had gone by before her mind finally raised its white flag in surrender and allowed her to rest.

~~~

 **Song** : cardigan - Taylor Swift

Hermione awoke the next morning to Bopsy's gentle hands nudging her.

"Mudblood!", she whispered eagerly. Hermione squinted her eyes in confusion at the elf. She rose up in bed, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair back out of her face. Bopsy stared at her patiently.

"Good morning, Bopsy", she said, her voice still groggy from sleep.

"Good morning, mudblood! You is having to leave!", the elf told her.

"W-what??", she asked, suddenly very afraid of what she meant.

"There is being a party tonight and prisoner cannot being in the dungeon for it! Master Malfoy isn't wanting guests finding mudblood while wandering the manor!", she clarified.

"Well...where are we going then?", she asked. _Am I to stay in the stables now?_

"Prisoner will see! Prisoner will like this better!", she said, tugging at Hermione's hand. _The only thing I'll like better is leaving this dreaded place._

Bopsy guided her out of the dungeon but her feet slowed when she realized the direction they were going - the West Wing of the manor. Towards Malfoy's study.

She led her to the door of a room adjacent to Malfoy's study and across the hall from what Hermione knew to be Malfoy's bedroom. _Of all the places in this house, why here?_

She staggered back when she entered the room. It didn't look anything like the rest of the manor.

It was filled with white wood furniture, a light blue bedspread with gold detailing, and a large closet which she was surprised to see was _full_ of clothes.

Cornflower and gold curtains framed the windows which faced the back of the manor, giving her a view of the colossal backyard that she had never really noticed before. It was covered in various flowers, trees, marble fountains - it was stunning.

It had its own personal bathroom adjoined - a waterfall shower and in-ground tub with more than enough room for one person.

Bopsy briefly informed her that there were towels under the sink and clean clothes in the dresser for her. She wasn't to leave the room, at all.

After she bid Bopsy goodbye, Hermione began to further inspect the room.

There was a small bookcase with a few works that she perused - _muggle_ authors. She was floored. The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee, 1984 by George Orwell, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe, Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, and many more famous works.

 _Who the hell in the Malfoy household was reading muggle literature?_ Whoever it was, they had great taste.

She eventually settled on Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Hermione took a seat at the small tea table by the large windows and began to lose herself in the writing. Although she had read the novel before, there was something comforting about already knowing how the story would end.

~~~

 **Song** : Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

The sun had already gone down, the only light was a lamp in the room, when Hermione heard voices slowly growing louder from downstairs. It was right as she finished Pride and Prejudice.

She couldn't imagine what the party was for, and she really didn't care that much. She was just glad she would be sleeping in an actual bed for the first time in about four months. She could even take a proper shower or bath if she wanted to.

 _I'm on vacation staying in a resort_ \- she joked with herself.

The only thing that rubbed her the wrong way was the fact that there was likely a mass amount of Death Eaters downstairs, potentially even Voldemort himself. The thought made her shiver, and the growing volume of the voices echoing around the manor's halls made her extremely anxious.

Deciding she needed to distract herself, she ran a proper bath for the first time in months, turning the water as hot as it would possibly go. _Thank Merlin._ She was so sick of lukewarm water being the usual temperature.

She slowly eased into the water, allowing her skin to adjust. It burned intensely, turning her skin red, but she endured it anyway. She reveled in the sting of it. It distracted her just as she intended it to. It soothed her muscles and calmed her anxiety.

The water was so hot that the steam caused sweat to form along her hairline, it was so nice to sweat. To burn. To hurt externally instead of internally. She knew that it was wrong, but it eased her nonetheless.

She adored the scent of the shampoo, conditioner, and soap provided - the scent of vanilla and coffee beans filling her nose. _He drank coffee instead of tea_ \- she remembered. It was wonderful. Especially in comparison to the dungeon that reeked of rotting flesh, blood, decay, and mold.

Hermione gave her long brunette curls a wash that was well overdue, towel drying her hair softly when she was done.

She even found moisturizer under the sink for her body, and she used it greedily. She used the spare comb on her curls and took a moment to stare at her naked body in the mirror. She had never been petite, but she looked it. Not as bad as she had when she was barely eating, she assumed. It helped that she had been eating pancakes for breakfast, along with meat and potatoes for lunch or dinner, rather than rice and bread once a day like more.

Her eyes were slightly sunken in, dark circles formed under her eyes. _Like a walking corpse._ That was how she looked. That was how she _felt._

She walked to the dresser in the room and began looking through the drawers for pajamas. There were numerous sets of matching satin pajamas, all spaghetti-strap tops and shorts that felt like cool butter against her fingertips.

She selected a light pink pair and slipped them on, loving the feel of it against her body. She felt thoroughly clean for the first time. She even got to shave her legs in the bathtub and she couldn't stop feeling her bare legs. How pitiful this entire situation was.

It was then that Hermione noticed a muggle record player on the bedside table, multiple records below it. She began flipping through them browsing the selection, but her heart stopped when she saw it. Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered the hot summer nights she spent as a child, dancing in the kitchen with her father to this song. Her mother would sing along in a tone-deaf voice, the three of them just enjoying each other's company.

She would stand on her father's shoes, allowing him to guide her as they laughed. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. _Please be okay. Please be happy._ She didn't know if they were still in Australia. The horrifying thought of Voldemort finding and torturing her muggle parents almost caused her an anxiety attack, her breath increasing rapidly.

She focused on calming herself, making her breathing deliberate, before reaching for the record and placing it in the player.

The music filled the room wonderfully and she felt peaceful. She laid back on the bed, the room still dimly lit by a few candles she found in the bathroom.

Hermione closed her eyes, humming to the song, and drifted off - her dreams were of a young girl with curly brown hair, dancing and singing in a small kitchen with her parents. A small smile found its way to her lips.


	32. Garden of weeds

**Song** : The Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala

As Draco made his way through the party, Pansy on his arm, he felt himself zoning out. More than once, Pansy had to shake him slightly or pinch his arm to bring his attention to someone awaiting his response. It was exhausting.

"How are you coping after those attacks on the Ministry?", one elderly couple asked him.

"My faith is unwavering in the Dark Lord. As long as he is in power, I will face the Incendiaries and any other opposing forces with full confidence", he responded robotically.

Draco had already given this response many times throughout the night, and this wouldn't be the last time he did. Every single person that he repeated it to seemed thoroughly pleased by his scripted answer.

Finally, the Dark Lord called everyone's attention, silencing the room with a wave of his hand.

"Good evening, I'm thrilled you all could be here tonight to celebrate the society that we will continue to build and expand. I know many of you have showed concern for the wellbeing of our people, community, and the Dark Territories, but I offer this - have I failed you thus far?", his tone was positive, intended to secure confidence, but felt much more like a threat. More of a - _how dare you question my power and influence_.

Everyone shook their heads in response, many even muttering words of reassurance, "we would never question the Dark Lord", "the Dark Lord is unfailing", and "no one would dare doubt one as all-powerful as the Dark Lord". He silenced the room once again.

"Not to worry, you are all simply human. And when our values and state of being are threatened, we worry and we fear. I am here tonight to tell you this, the Dark Territories and the Death Eaters are as strong as ever."

The speech was being cast to Romania, Poland, Germany, France, and the Netherlands. It was possible all of England was here tonight in person.

The room erupted in applause from the Dark Lord's speech. Draco clenched his fists in anger. _Actually, we are weaker than ever. Our forces are down by almost 100. You are weaker than ever._ He smiled widely at everyone around the room.

The Dark Lord nodded to Draco and he raised his glass, cueing him. "To the Dark Lord!", Draco called out, "To the Dark Lord!", everyone responded and followed suit. They all drank. The party resumed.

By the time the evening had run its course and all the guests had departed - the Dark Lord leaving hours before anyone else did - he was mentally depleted. He wasn't necessarily one for social affairs, just for appearances. Draco and the Dark Lord had this in common.

Pansy hung around to avoid raising any suspicion, not leaving until the very last person was out the door. She pulled Draco into a hug. He returned it willingly. Without a word, they nodded at each other and she took the floo to Daphne's. It didn't always take words for understanding to pass between the two of them.

He shrugged his jacket off and heavily forced his feet up the stairs and down the hall to his room. He automatically paused in front of Granger's door instead of his. Draco raised his hand to knock when he froze it midair - Landslide was still playing.

He slowly opened the door to find Granger asleep, the record player still running. It was enchanted to restart itself when the song finished. It had been hours since he first heard it streaming through the door.

She looked so peaceful, a small smile on her face. She was captivating this way.

Her brown curls were strewn about her head like a halo, a few small flames in the room flickering light across the strands, making them look like spun gold. They flickered back and forth - brown, gold, brown, gold.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her face halfway in the pillow. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, as if she were trying to hug herself. The thought saddened Draco for some reason.

He gently reached for the covers and pulled them up over her. The light pink, satin pajamas she wore were complementary to her skin. It was normally olive and tanned, but had paled from the lack of time out in the sun.

Her skin was covered in small bumps, and he knew she must be freezing. He tucked her in slightly and she stirred before breathing deeply, returning to whatever dreams she must be having.

He stood there taking in her appearance. Soft. Delicate, like a flower. She was this way on the outside, but could have such a rough and defensive demeanor. It puzzled him.

He bit his lip as he looked at hers. Like soft petals, he wanted to meet them with his own. Put pressure on them, then pull back. Part them. Explore them. _Claim_ them.

He shook away the thoughts when he realized he had gotten carried away. He was even leaning towards her. Draco felt such a strong pull to her, physically, mentally, emotionally... _no. I'm exhausted. I need to go to bed._

He wanted to crawl in next to her, wrapping his body around hers like the dragon did on her arm. Protecting what was his. _Not mine. Just under my control. In my home._

He thought better of it, and with more self control than he would expect it to take, he extinguished the small flames around the room, and left her to sleep peacefully.

~~~

The next morning, Draco showered, dressed, and made his way to the room across the hall. He knocked lightly, hand hesitating on the knob until he heard confirmation that he could enter.

Granger stared at him in silence, seated at the table with her breakfast in front of her untouched. She didn't look as peaceful as she had the night before, but had clearly had a good night's rest for the first time in a while. So much so that her cheeks were slightly puffy and tinged pink, her eyes squinting from the daylight streaming in. She was still in the silk pink pajamas. A delicate flower.

"Morning", he greeted her, "I see no need for you to return to the dungeons, you have permission to stay here from now on...if you'd like." He stared deeply into her eyes, trying to read the emotion behind the amber orbs.

She took a deep breath, staring back into his eyes before saying "I would", simply.

He stared at her for a moment longer than was truly necessary, nodded, then turned to leave. He froze when she asked, "How was the party?"

He chuckled quietly, a smile growing on his lips, "tolerable", he responded before closing the door softly behind him.

_Only because you had Landslide on repeat. Only because it ended with me tucking you in. Only because the sight of you fills me with something more than I can understand, and that horrifies me._

She was a rose in a garden of weeds, one that withstood the coldest of winters and the strongest of storms.


	33. Playing with Fire

**Song** : Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Hermione woke up feeling thoroughly refreshed, not even wanting to move from the comfortable bed she had fallen asleep in. She pulled at the sheets softly, enjoying the way they felt against her skin. She didn't even remember falling asleep or climbing under them, but she felt so comfortable she didn't even question it.

Her breakfast was already on the small tea table, the scent making her stomach growl with hunger. She slowly rolled out of bed, stretched, and made her way over to it.

She was still in her pajamas, fixing her tea, when a knock came at the door. "Come in", she called out. Malfoy walked in. Her stomach fluttered lightly but she tried to ignore it.

Hermione stared at him in silence, waiting for his explanation for being there. _Can I at least finish my breakfast before you kick me out?_

"Morning", he greeted her, taking a few steps into the room before leaning against the dresser, quite a few feet away. _Keeping your distance for any particular reason?_

"I see no need for you to return to the dungeons, you have permission to stay here from now on...if you'd like", he told her, his eyes flashing up to hers. _I can stay?_ She was flabbergasted. Nice clothes _and_ hot water _and_ a real bed _._ She had to be dreaming.

She stared into his eyes as he waited for her response before saying plainly, "I would". _I would love to stay here in this nice room and continue to pretend I'm not a prisoner here - yes, thank you._

He stared a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave, but she spoke up. "How was the party?", she asked playfully. _Don't leave..._

He chuckled quietly and without turning responded, "tolerable". He closed the door gently behind him and then he was gone.

_Why do I feel so comfortable with him? So natural? We barely exchange a few words and yet I feel at ease in his presence._

She was torn between actually wanting to be around him, and convincing herself she did only for the purposes of research. She had to figure out why she was here and what Voldemort wanted. No other excuses. She was on a mission, she was playing a game.

Her actions a few days before seemed to be successful, but she would need a book. A reason to be there.

Considering all the books in her room were muggle books, and she still didn't know to whom they belonged (though she doubted they were Malfoy's), she wouldn't dare bring one into his study.

Hermione looked through the closet and selected a lightweight, cream colored sweater, a pair of jeans, and trainers. On her way to the library, she prayed to Merlin it would be open now. She pushed the doors and...they opened. _Thank Godric._

She went straight to Section N and began to browse. It took her awhile to select a book, but she also didn't want to show up to Malfoy's study too soon after he had been in her room. She couldn't be too obvious about her plan. He wasn't _that_ daft.

No, it needed to be subtle.

She slowly walked back to his study, talking herself up the entire way.

Without knocking, Hermione opened the door to his study, silently relieved that Malfoy was in fact there, and knee deep in papers.

He looked up at her - she felt the heat from his stare but refused to make eye contact. Instead, she walked directly to sit where she had previously, facing towards him by the fire. She crossed her legs confidently and opened her book, completely ignoring him.

Much to her surprise, he didn't say a word. _I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised, he's the most stubborn person I've ever met._

They sat there together for hours, Hermione fully delving into her new novel and Malfoy's focus was unwavering from his work. It was almost... _peaceful? Comforting?_

Eventually, the sun began to set, casting orange and red light through the room, getting dimmer and dimmer. It shimmered against his hair, and she hated the way it distracted her from her story. _Captivating._

She found herself staring, taking him in. Hermione continuously tried to ignore him because of how hideous he was on the inside. But outside... _wow._ He looked like an angel. A fallen one, but an angel nonetheless.

His eyes, his hair, his skin, his body - everything about him was absolutely beautiful. Not in a feminine way, but in a way that made you forget to breathe. Forget to think. Like he was the most magnetizing thing in the room.

Suddenly his hand froze where it was over a stack of papers, and she quickly glanced back down to her book. _Shit. Shit that's embarrassing._

Hermione hoped to Godric he hadn't stopped because he felt her gaze, but deep down she knew that was exactly why.

"Like what you see, Granger?", he asked, swiveling in his chair to face her, a grin on his face - teasing her.

"Yes", she responded, fighting the blush in her cheeks, "the sunset is lovely".

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "is that all?" _No._

"Of course, what else?", she said, her eyes quickly returning to the words on the page in front of her, although she wasn't processing a bit of it.

She heard him rise from his chair. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

His footsteps grew nearer, but she refused to look up until his feet were right in front of her. Malfoy leaned in until she could feel his breath in her ear. She shivered from the warmth. "I think that something else drew your attention", he whispered, a gruffness in his voice now.

Hermione's body filled with heat, her mouth going dry, other places becoming wet. She was mortified by the reaction that was out of her control.

_Play the game, Hermione. Take control. This is his weakness._

"Well something has definitely drawn yours", she whispered back. He hadn't moved, so his ear was right next to her mouth as well.

She fought the temptation as hard as she could - to dart her tongue out and drag it over his ear. She had to play the game, but she couldn't rush it. Couldn't do anything she'd regret for the sake of winning. Hermione would never turn into a slag just for information. She was clever, not desperate.

He leaned back, his face now directly in front of hers, and the ability to breathe completely left her. His hands were boxing her in where she sat. "And what if it has?", Malfoy asked.

"Something that distracted you from your work? It would have to be irresistible", Hermione responded. She couldn't stop herself from licking her lips. _How do you do this to me?_

"True, but despite my self control, I can be an insatiable man", he said. _What is that supposed to mean?_

"What would you need to have self-control with?", she asked.

"The _irresistible_ ", Malfoy commented, using her own words. Their lips were closer now, though she wasn't sure who had moved, or if both had.

"Why?", she practically dared him. _Am I irresistible?_

"I told you Granger, I'm insatiable", he said. His voice was growing almost hoarse and it made her quiver.

"Maybe you just haven't been satisfied _before_." Hermione was treading on thin ice, and she knew this. But she couldn't be the one to stop whatever this was, not if it could give her an upper hand.

"I suppose there's only one way to find out", he said, eyes flickering up as if for permission.

Whatever she communicated back with her eyes, Malfoy took it as approval. Without warning, he moved forward, gripping her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently.

A quiet whimper escaped from her mouth and she practically died of embarrassment right then and there. _Why does this feel so good when I know it's wrong?_

"Didn't take you for someone who liked it rough", he chuckled. Her breath hitched in response and then his lips were on hers. Molding them, soft but firm. It was heat on heat. Fire on fire. Two flames connecting.

Electricity shot through her body and it was like she lost all control. Her hands went to his shoulders, firm but soft, even beneath his button up. They roamed curiously, across his chest, around the back of his neck, up through his hair. She burned with a desire she had never known before.

His hands gripped her face lightly, the cold rings on her face contrasting sharply with his burning lips. They moved to her waist as he deepened his kiss, parting her lips with his tongue and it was... _wow._ Hermione had never been kissed this way before. It was divine.

One of his hands went to the back of her neck, lightly pressing her harder into his kiss, his other hand slid down her back, stopping just above her bum.

Almost automatically, her legs parted as he moved closer, pressing his front against hers. She moaned in shock when she felt a firmness pressed against her body. _His._

Suddenly he pulled back, looking as if he couldn't believe what he had just done. She was sure she wore a similar expression. He backed up a few steps, but she was already scrambling in embarrassment from the way she felt. The way she hadn't wanted it to stop.

She grabbed her book from where it had fallen on the floor and practically ran out the door, slamming it behind her in her rush to escape.

As soon as she closed the door to her room, she locked it and slid down to the floor with her back against it.

Her fingers ghosted over her lips, which were still swollen from Malfoy's against them.

She knew what she was doing. But she also knew she was playing with fire, and that never ended well. And yet, it was a risk she was willing to take. No, _had_ to take.


	34. Burned

**Song** : What A Feeling - One Direction

Draco sat at his desk, deep in thought, though they had nothing to do with the forms before him. The door to his study flew open and in walked none other than Granger herself. _Speak of the devil..._

He looked up at her impulsively, taking in her appearance. A sweater, pants that hugged her legs, and simple shoes. Her curls were strewn across her shoulders and down her back, the light catching her ringlets.

She didn't meet his gaze, but instead made her way to the same chair she sat in days before, facing towards him by the fire. She had her nose in the book she brought with her before her bottom even hit the seat. _Comfortable?_

He was shocked by this boldness. Impressed even. She acted as if this were a daily routine. _Two can play at this game, Granger._

He went straight back to his work. Although, he was really looking at it for the first time, only to spite her.

They sat there together for hours, Granger fully delving into her new novel and Draco getting more work than he had in weeks. In his defense, it was quite mundane being the Minister of Magic in the Dark Lord's world.

When the setting sun streamed through the curtains, dimming the room, he felt her gaze. _Caught you red-handed, love._

She had already gone back to "reading" her novel when Draco turned to face her, leaning back, cocky as ever. He smirked at her when her cheeks turned rosy.

"Like what you see, Granger?", Draco asked her.

"Yes", she responded, barely flickering her eyes from the pages, "the sunset is lovely". The fact that they were focused on the same spot on her page gave away the fact that she was definitely not reading.

He narrowed his eyes. Draco was far too clever to fall for such a poor cover-up, "Is that all?"

"Of course, what else?", she said in a chirpy voice. The panic in her voice, the clear squirming she did in response to him...it lit up every inch of his body.

Impulsively, he rose from his chair and made his way over to her. She was practically shaking, but he knew it wasn't fear.

Draco stopped just in front of her, waited a moment watching her statue-still position, then leaned forward until his lips were next to her ear. She shivered when he brushed the curls behind her ear. "I think that something else drew your attention", he whispered gruffly.

He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and Merlin, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad he couldn't even comprehend it. But he wasn't thinking, he was feeling.

_Come on, Granger. Light me up. Show me that fire._

"Well something has definitely drawn yours", she whispered back. He hadn't moved, so his ear was right next to her mouth as well. He hadn't realized this until her whisper danced across his ear, sending electricity throughout his body.

Draco leaned back, his face now directly in front of hers, and stared deeply into her amber eyes. Daring her. He boxed her in with his hands braced on either side of the chair, "and what if it has?"

"Something that distracted you from your work? It would have to be irresistible", Hermione responded. He couldn't help but notice when her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His eyes flickered. _That it is._

"True, but despite my self control, I can be an insatiable man", he told her. It was true. Draco typically got what he wanted, but even that wasn't always enough. But something...something told him this was different. He felt it in his bones.

"What would you need to have self-control with?", she asked, clearly full of nervous energy.

"The irresistible", Malfoy commented, using her own words. Their lips were closer now, but it wasn't enough. _With you._

"Why?", she asked, gulping hard.

"I told you Granger, I'm insatiable", he said.

"Maybe you just haven't been satisfied _yet_ ", she whispered seductively. He bit his lip at what she was implying. _Fuck it._

"I suppose there's only one way to find out", he said, eyes flickering up as if for permission. Draco had never struggled with self-control until that moment. Everything he did was well-thought out. Deliberate.

But what he saw in her eyes was the same hunger he knew was his own. The same need. Like he could read her mind. Like some unspoken message was communicated and received between their eyes alone. And it was enough for him.

He moved forward, gripped her bottom lip between his teeth, and tugged gently. They were plump and soft, and burned with heat.

A quiet whimper escaped from her mouth and the noise went straight below his stomach. _Holy shit._

"Didn't take you for someone who liked it rough", he chuckled. Her breath hitched in response and then his lips were on hers. Molding them, soft but firm. It was heat on heat. Fire on fire. Two flames connecting.

Her hands roaming curiously, across his chest, around the back of his neck, up through his hair. He fought back the moan of pleasure he felt rising in his throat. Her touch set him ablaze. Draco thought he might combust from the heat of it.

His hands gripped her face lightly, and he fought the urge to take a fistful of her hair, claiming it as his. He felt the curves of her waist as he deepened his kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. Not even the magic that tingled beneath his skin, flowed through his blood, had ever sent such a strong surge of energy through him like kissing her this way did.

One of his hands went to the back of her neck, lightly pressing her harder into his kiss, his other hand slid down her back, stopping just above her bum to press her closer to his torso.

Her legs parted as he moved closer, pressing his front against hers. She moaned when his hardness pressed against her _there_ , making him even harder if it was even possible. _This is wrong. Fuck. What am I doing?_

He pulled back quickly, running his fingers through his hair. Even Draco couldn't believe what he had just done.

She wore a shocked expression and he was horrified. _Did I just force myself on her?_

He backed up a few steps feeling mortified, but she was already scrambling. He didn't want to stop. Didn't want to end what just happened, but the fear that it wasn't real horrified him.

He knew what the spell did. It didn't say this, he hadn't commanded her, but, did he? Had something slipped from his lips at some point? He felt sick to his stomach. Felt like a monster. _Salazar, please tell me I didn't...please..._

Granger grabbed her book from where it had fallen on the floor and practically ran out the door, slamming it behind her in her rush to escape. _Fuck._

He tore at his hair aggressively. _I didn't. I know I didn't say anything. But...no. Why did I even do that?_

His palms were sweating as he clenched his fists and paced the room.

_I didn't command her...but she didn't stop me. Granger is not the type to let anything happen she isn't okay with, right? Fuck. Why did I..._

The tips of his fingers still felt staticky. _What the..?_

He struggled to decipher how he felt. When he tucked her into bed. When he kissed her. When he saw her. When he touched her. He knew he was playing with fire, but maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be burned. By her.


	35. Proper Manners

**Song** : Human - Maggie Lindemann

Hermione had just gotten out of the shower and was still in a towel when she walked into the room to find Bopsy waiting for her there. "Mudblood!", she chirped and Hermione practically fell backwards.

"Merlin, Bopsy you scared me", she said, still catching her breath, holding her hand to her chest.

"Bopsy is sorry! Bopsy isn't meaning to!", she told her with worried eyes, wringing her hands together.

"It's okay", Hermione chuckled, walking over to the dresser to grab a pair of pajamas. She decided on the lavender colored ones that night.

"Prisoner is to have dinner with Master Malfoy on Saturday!", she told her and Hermione froze on the spot.

"W-what?", _no, there's no way. wait..._ ,"Which...which one?", she hoped for the best.

"Master Lucius!", Bopsy clarified. Hermione was certain her relief was apparent as Bopsy looked confused by her reaction.

"What for?", she pushed for more. _I suppose he misses me_ , she joked to herself.

"Bopsy is not knowing! Prisoner is to wear formal clothes and Bopsy is to take her to the dining room at 8pm!", the elf told her.

"Wait, Bopsy...", she trailed off, "I don't have any formal clothes." _Is this some sort of joke?_

Despite all the nice clothes in the closet and dresser, none of those included anything formal, or at least the formal that she was sure Lucius meant.

"Master Malfoy is saying he will send something for prisoner to wear! He says formal dress is being proper manners for a dinner guest!", the elf stated matter-of-factly.

Hermione chuckled at Bopsy referring to her as a "guest" for the first time. As if that was a reasonable description of her stay at the manor. This caused Bopsy to look even more confused, quirking her brows as she stood there, toes pointed towards each other.

She nodded in response to reassure the elf and thanked her. When the elf left, Hermione proceeded to get dressed, but her mind was overflowing with thoughts of both Malfoy men.

_Dinner with Lucius on Saturday. I just kissed Draco Malfoy. Malfoy just kissed me. Today. Dear Godric it's only Monday. Dinner with Lucius. Malfoy kissed me._

_Oh Merlin. Malfoy kissed me. And I kissed back._

She told herself it was for the sake of winning, and on the surface level, it was. But deep down, she knew better.

She had burned with desire from his touch. Felt the disappointment from his pulling back. Felt the longing for more...she was horrified by her impulses.

What was she to do now? _Keep going. I need to ignore what I feel. Every push is one step closer to reaching my goal. Keep pushing._

It had been over four months since the Battle of Hogwarts. She was painfully aware of this - she read the Daily Prophet with her breakfast each day.

Four months since Harry died, her friends, the Order. All that was left was her. And that wasn't nothing, regardless of the fact that it felt that way. She had to fight. Her friends and family would want her to. Expect her to. So she would.

And so her mind was made up.

~~~

The next morning, Hermione ate her breakfast, scanned the front page of the Daily Prophet, and set about her goal once again.

She dressed in a fitted green turtleneck (not for herself), a pair of dark denim jeans, and ankle-height black booties with low heels that she found in the closet. Kind of odd items to be put in a guest room meant for her use...

Regardless, she decided to take advantage of it. Slightly out of her comfort zone, but not too far. A little more revealing than normal, a little dressier. She swept her hair half up loosely in a way that she hopes was appealing without making her look like a try-hard.

She scooped up her book from the day before, walked straight into Malfoy's study, and took the seat across the desk from him. He looked up. More than that - stared.

Hermione met his eyes briefly, deliberately expressionless, and began reading.

She could feel his gaze still. She knew he must be trying to figure out what to say.

"I think we should-", he began, but she raised a hand to him.

"It won't be necessary", Hermione responded.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow in confusion and narrowed his eyes at her. Her stomach fluttered briefly. "You don't even know what I was going to say", he pushed.

"I did", she insisted, closing the book and leaning back in the chair slightly in an attempt to mirror his confidence.

"Enlighten me then, Granger", he teased, the corner of his lips lifting devilishly. When she didn't respond he demanded, "Tell me."

The words flooded from her mouth with ease. "You were going to say we should discuss what happened yesterday. You kissing me, me kissing back. But it isn't necessary, Malfoy."

Her jaw almost dropped in shock from her own words.. _I didn't mean to be that blunt but I guess that'll work._

His eyes went wide in surprise, then narrowed confidently once again. "So you kissed back", he commented.

"Yes, the sky is blue, thestrals can fly, and magic is real. You were there, do you need anything else explained that is quite obvious at this point?", she told him, once again shocked at herself, but confident in what she said.

He chuckled and didn't respond.

"Why did _you_ want to talk about it?", Hermione asked him.

"No reason", he said nonchalantly, clearly pretending to dive back into his work.

"Please tell me", she practically begged. His eyes flickered to hers in question. _Be brave Hermione. Be brave._

She rose from the chair and walked around the desk and it felt all too familiar. She leaned against the desk, lightly resting on it, and put her hand close to his without touching it. "Please".

He looked up at her, "I thought you were too good to beg, Granger", he teased.

"What can I say? I can be an _insatiable_ woman", she ventured. His eyes darkened.

He touched her fingers lightly with his, using his index finger to draw gentle circles on the top of her hand. "Never thought I'd see the day you and I had something in common", he responded raspily.

She stepped closer slightly, venturing further. _One step at a time._

Her knees touched his and his hands went to her hips, she inhaled sharply. "Why did you want to talk about it?", she asked again.

"Because I want it to happen again", he responded, jerking her onto his laps so she straddled him. Hermione gasped from how smoothly he had brought her down on him and the sensation of him against her.

He grasped her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Do _you_?", he asked. She nodded in response but it wasn't enough. "Say it", he commanded.

"Yes", and then his lips were on hers again. The kiss was soft, but burned just as much as their first. But this one was hesitant, unsure, on both of their behalves.

His hands on her hips began to roam, covering her thighs and making her shiver from the slight pressure when he squeezed gently. She was at a loss for words with how it made her feel.

Hermione's arms circled around his neck, but she couldn't help it when they found and toyed with his hair. He bit her lip and she moaned, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

He grinned and moved to suck on her neck and she gasped. _Oh Godric, it felt good. Too good._ Her eyes shot open and she pulled away, still on his lap. Malfoy looked puzzled.

"I...I'm sorry I...", she hesitated.

"What? Too good for this?", he asked her, looking almost frustrated.

"No! Malfoy I just...", she trailed off, struggling to find the words.

"Out with it", he said, removing his hands from her hips. She felt awkward now so she climbed off of his lap to stand, taking a few steps back.

"You're dating Pansy", she stated, crossing her arms.

Malfoy laughed loudly, just like he had the first time.

"What? You think cheating on her is funny?", she demanded. She didn't care about Pansy, but she couldn't let it go too far. She knew that. Besides, Pansy was likely to murder her just over being in the same room as her boyfriend.

"Regardless of what you _perceive_ to be true, I'm not cheating on her", he said, still chuckling. _What the...? Perceive?_

"Okay well what about your job? I can't imagine your _boss_ would be thrilled about you moving in on your prisoner. Wouldn't want to jeopardize what I'm here for, right?", she was digging. _Come on, let something slip._

Malfoy scoffed, "Somehow I doubt he would care if I was 'moving in' on his prisoner", he shook his head condescendingly.

"Then...well, I mean", she was possibly more confused than before.

"It's not like I'm going to bend you over the desk and fuck you Granger", he said bluntly, looking back to his papers. He looked angry. Hermione was mortified. He snickered quietly.

"Is this really funny to you? Snogging your prisoner and just taking what you want without asking?", she took a step forward this time, now angry herself.

Malfoy stood abruptly and backed her against the wall, boxing her in with his hands pressed against the wall behind her. Her breathing hitched.

"Let's get something clear. Yes, you are my prisoner - the Dark Lord's - whatever you want to call it. And yes, I do take what I want, but _you_ are the one who said yes. You told me yourself you wanted it to happen again as well. So tell me Granger, what is it that I've taken without asking?", his eyes dug into hers like daggers. _He's right. He hasn't 'taken' anything without asking. Fuck. I screwed up._

She didn't respond, because there wasn't anything.

He scanned her face before smirking. "That's what I thought."

"Why do you care?", she asked, his hands still on either side of her head, his face close but not in a tension filled way. Not like _that_ at least.

"Who said I did?", he retorted.

"Why did you even ask? If I'm right and you 'take what you want' then why did you even bother to ask if I did too?" His expression dropped. _Ha. Gotcha._

His jaw ticked in frustration, clearly gritting his teeth.

"Do you take me for a rapist? Is that how low you think of me? Someone who sexually assaults women? Tell me the truth", he said.

"No, but how would I know? I barely know you really...you barely know me", she said truthfully.

He sighed, appearing relieved. Clearly agreeing with her statement.

"Well, now you know that much." He pushed off of the wall and returned his chair.

The air in the room had shifted. It was almost unreadable. Hermione felt like there was some strange understanding there, but she wasn't sure what to do.

"By all means, don't halt your reading on my account", he gestured towards the seat across the desk when he saw she was still standing against the wall awkwardly.

She nodded briefly, walking slowly back to the chair and picking up her abandoned book. _Is this his strange way of asking me to stay? Or telling me to at least?_

The shift felt like progress. Even if it wasn't much, she felt closer to getting to a side of Malfoy that would let a few secrets go. If it existed. She could only hope.


	36. Dessert

**Song** : The Walls - Chase Atlantic

Draco was in his study when Granger walked in with her book and sat in the chair across from him, his desk the only barrier between them.

He took her in, noticing her relatively tight fitting clothes. His mind wandered shamelessly despite his efforts to avoid them. Draco couldn't help but admire the slytherin green sweater she wore - _is that for me?_ He fought his laughter.

She met his eyes briefly before opening her book and practically shoving her nose in it. _So we're acting like nothing happened yesterday then?_

He thought for a moment, waiting to see if she would say anything. He couldn't believe the one person who had something to say about _everything_ , didn't have something to say about this.

"I think we should-", he began, but she raised a hand to him.

"It won't be necessary", Granger responded. _Won't be necessary?_

Draco quirked an eyebrow in confusion and narrowed his eyes at her. "You don't even know what I was going to say", he pushed. _Unless you see the future now too. Just something else to add to her "I know everything" attitude._

"I did", she insisted, closing the book and leaning back in the chair slightly. _Oh really?_

"Enlighten me then, Granger", he teased, the corner of his lips lifting devilishly. When she didn't respond he demanded, "Tell me."

"You were going to say we should discuss what happened yesterday. You kissing me, me kissing back. But it isn't necessary, Malfoy." The words practically poured out of her mouth automatically. He knew why, but it still surprised him to hear her be so blunt.

She appeared to be almost surprised by her words herself. _You could have told me willingly, love, but you have to be difficult, don't you?_

"So you kissed back", he commented. _I know you did, but I want to hear you say it._

"Yes, the sky is blue, thestrals can fly, and magic is real. You were there, do you need anything else explained that is quite obvious at this point?", she told him. He loved when she was feisty, and it excited him more than he could ever admit. Draco couldn't help but continue to push her buttons just to see her unravel before him. Instead of responding, he chuckled lightly, knowing it would set her ablaze with frustration.

"Why did _you_ want to talk about it?", she asked him.

"No reason", he said nonchalantly, pretending to dive back into his work. _Gonna have to try harder than that, Granger._

"Please tell me", she practically begged. He could hear it in her voice, and the sound went to his groin. His eyes flickered to hers in question. _You've got my attention._

She rose from the chair and walked around the desk and it felt all too familiar. She leaned against the desk, lightly resting on it, and put her hand close to his without touching it. "Please". He was painfully aware of her proximity.

He looked up at her, "I thought you were too good to beg, Granger", he teased. _But I know you'll do it if you're desperate, and I want you to._

"What can I say? I can be an _insatiable_ woman", she ventured. His eyes darkened. _Is that right?_

He touched her fingers lightly with his, using his index finger to draw gentle circles on the top of her hand. "Never thought I'd see the day you and I had something in common", he responded raspily.

She stepped slightly closer, causing the hairs on his neck to stand up.

Her knees touched his and he placed his hands firmly on her hips, causing her to inhale sharply. "Why did you want to talk about it?", she asked again. He bit his cheek.

"Because I want it to happen again", he finally admitted, jerking her onto his lap so she straddled him. She gasped in response and he could feel the heat of her even through both of their pants. _Fuck._

He grasped her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Do _you_?", he asked. She nodded in response but it wasn't enough. "Say it", he commanded. _I need to know you want it too. Undoubtedly._

"Yes", she affirmed, and then his lips were on hers again. The kiss was soft, but burned just as much as their first. But this one was hesitant, unsure, on both of their behalves.

He lowered his hands to her thighs and she lightly pressed down harder against him. _Merlin._ He squeezed them gently, loving the way she was curvier here than he had ever noticed. More of her to feel.

Her arms circled around his neck and her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He bit her lip in approval and she moaned, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. Nothing caused a more physical reaction than seeing her react to his touch this way.

He grinned and moved to suck on her neck, smiling against it when she gasped. Her skin was soft and thin there, making it all the more appealing for Draco.

Suddenly she pulled away and he gave her a puzzled look. _Too rough for you, love? I can be much rougher than that...I want to be._

"I...I'm sorry I...", she hesitated. Draco was truly confused. The sounds she had emitted in response to him didn't match up with how she was acting now, and her hesitation to speak her mind.

"What? Too good for this?", he asked her, scrunching up his face slightly. He was irritated now. _She thinks she's too good for me specifically, doesn't she. Maybe she is._

"No! Malfoy I just...", she trailed off. Granger clearly couldn't find the words but Draco was quickly growing impatient.

"Out with it", he said, removing his hands from her hips. She climbed off of his lap and took a few steps back, which frustrated him even more. _So disgusted you can't even be near me now? Unbelievable. The absolute arrogance..._

"You're dating Pansy", she stated, crossing her arms. _Come again?_ Draco laughed loudly at this. He couldn't help it. She truly couldn't be the 'brightest witch of our age' if she couldn't even figure this one out.

"What? You think cheating on her is funny?", she demanded. _Merlin, Granger. You aren't daft, come on now. I'll have to let Pansy know we truly are putting on a good show - fit to fool even the cleverest of witches._

"Regardless of what you _perceive_ to be true, I'm not cheating on her", he said, still chuckling. Part of him wanted to correct her, but he thought better of it. Although it wasn't like she could spill the tea to anyone, he wouldn't dare risk Pansy and Daphne's relationship. Their lives even, if it were to get back to the Dark Lord somehow.

"Okay well what about your job? I can't imagine your _boss_ would be thrilled about you moving in on your prisoner. Wouldn't want to jeopardize what I'm here for, right?", she said. _Moving in on? I'd like to do much more than that..._

Draco scoffed, "Somehow I doubt he would care if I was 'moving in' on his prisoner", he shook his head condescendingly.

"Then...well, I mean", she appeared even more confused. Like she was scrambling for an excuse to prevent things from going any further. He supposed he couldn't blame her for it. Given the situation. Given who they were. But it bothered him nonetheless, because he wasn't doing it.

He wasn't trying to hide what he wanted, although deep down he definitely was. He wanted much more than to kiss her while she sat on his lap. He wanted to do things that would get him killed. Things that would make her entire face turn crimson-red.

"It's not like I'm going to bend you over the desk and fuck you Granger", he said bluntly, looking back to his papers, full of anger. _But I wish I could. Probably would if you let me..._

"Is this really funny to you? Snogging your prisoner and just taking what you want without asking?", she took a step forward this time, now apparently angry herself. It sparked his interest even though he hated it. He loved her attitude, her fire.

Draco stood abruptly and backed her against the wall, boxing her in with his hands pressed against the wall behind her. Her breathing hitched in response. _Let's not forget who's in control here._

"Let's get something clear. Yes, you are my prisoner - the Dark Lord's - whatever you want to call it. And yes, I do take what I want, but _you_ are the one who said yes. You told me yourself you wanted it to happen again as well. So tell me Granger, what is it that I've taken without asking?", he stared hard into her eyes. He knew there was nothing she could rebut to this.

She didn't respond, because there wasn't anything. _Point made._

He scanned her face before smirking. "That's what I thought."

"Why do you care?", she asked, his hands still on either side of her head.

 _I don't care_ , he proceeded to deny it even to himself. Always on the fence between taking it for himself and thinking logically.

"Who said I did?", he retorted.

"Why did you even ask? If I'm right and you 'take what you want' then why did you even bother to ask if I did too?" His expression dropped. _Damnit._

His jaw ticked lightly and he gritted his teeth together in frustration. Clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Do you take me for a rapist? Is that how low you think of me? Someone who sexually assaults women? Tell me the truth", he said. _Please don't think that. I'm not a good person, but I'm not those things either._

"No, but how would I know? I barely know you really...you barely know me", she said truthfully. She was right. And he hated that she was right.

Draco sighed in resignation.

"Well, now you know that much." He pushed off of the wall and returned his chair feeling somewhat defeated, the moment having long passed. Maybe it was for the best.

He understood where she was coming from, but did she understand? What he had been through? What he had seen and done? She surely didn't understand what he was feeling. And if she did, it wasn't nearly on the same level.

He was almost certain she must be bored and was finding slight interest in teasing the only candidate in her environment for entertainment. The thought made him sick. She had no idea how he was feeling, but he couldn't tell her.

"By all means, don't halt your reading on my account", he gestured towards the seat across the desk when he saw she was still standing against the wall awkwardly. _Don't leave...I know this is an odd situation, just don't leave me alone. I'm tired of being alone. Anything but that._

She nodded briefly, walking slowly back to the chair and picking up her abandoned book. He was surprised that she didn't put up a fight about it. It wasn't as if he gave a warm invitation for her to stay, but it was the best his arrogance would allow.

It worked, that was all that mattered.

~~~

The rest of the week was rather uneventful. Paperwork, Granger, Drink, Sleep. Repeat.

No other... _physical_...incidents happened in that time, much to his vexation.

She haunted his dreams, his thoughts, his days. She was always there in his head, even if she wasn't physically with him, and he was growing far too comfortable with it.

On Friday, he was called in to a meeting and left his study before Granger even arrived. If she arrived. He simply assumed she would, but the thought of her not showing up bothered him slightly, even though he had no way of knowing.

He took his seat at the table when he arrived, nodding slightly to his friends in the process. They were all still feeling disconsolate over Theo, and the thoughts resurfaced everytime they were all at the Dark Lord's table together.

Everyone rose when he walked in, standing straight at attention in complete silence. No one knew why they were there, and the anticipation was palpable in the room.

"Ah, my loyal followers, always quick to my side when needed", he acknowledged. The Dark Lord took his seat and gestured for everyone else to do the same.

He appeared much more content than usual, and it was unsettling. Blaise sent glances in Draco's direction from across the table and he returned them subtly when the Dark Lord wasn't watching.

Suddenly servants began pouring into the room with trays of food, served with beer and spiked teas for those who requested it. If Draco was lost before, he was far from home by now. _What the bloody hell is going on?_

He tried to eat, but could barely stomach anything. No one ever knew what the Dark Lord had up his sleeve. Especially not now.

"Wasn't that delicious", he asked the table when everyone had finished eating. They all nodded eagerly in response, thanking him for the food.

The Dark Lord had not eaten any of it. Simply sipped from a goblet full of red liquid that Draco was willing to bet his life on was filled with unicorn blood or something repulsive and sadistic. He didn't even want to know.

"Anyone up for dessert?", he asked, and the hall went still and quiet. This wasn't a question. It was made like a statement, with a dark tone that implied something indecipherable.

He waved his wand and the double doors at the end of the hall flew open. Right at that moment, death eaters came in dragging two people by the arms, their feet dragging against the floor.

Both had white blonde hair and bright blue, innocent eyes. An older man, and a girl that looked to be Draco's age. It was right at that moment that he recognized the two of them.

Xenophilius Lovegood and his daughter Luna Lovegood.

His stomach practically fell to his feet. He hadn't known Luna Lovegood, rather knew of her - Loony Lovegood at Hogwarts. But she had been trapped in the Malfoy Manor dungeons for months, which wasn't his own fault, but he felt guilty regardless.

What he _did_ know was that she was potentially the most innocent person he had ever seen or heard of. He was horrified to learn what was about to happen to her and her father.

"These two _blood-traitors_ were caught in Romania", the entire table of Death Eaters scowled in response to the Dark Lord's words.

"They were trying to buy, what was it called?", he turned towards the guards but Luna chimed in.

"A crumple-horned snorkack! They're native to Sweden but-", she was cut off by a slap to the face from one of the guards. Draco tried hard not to react but it still made him feel sick. Her cheek was quickly turning pink.

"I think it's safe to say to say they didn't find a dealer, but they did find some of our colleagues", he chuckled and the table erupted with laughter.

"If I remember correctly, they were involved with the Order, were they not, Minister?", he asked, turning to face him.

"Yes, my Lord", Draco told him truthfully. Not that he had a choice.

"Well, I fear with your Minister duties you have been kept from all the fun. I wanted to thank you for your work by giving you the honors", he told him.

Draco thought he might empty the contents of his meal on the spot. He nodded confidently.

"I believe that with the potential connection between the Incendiaries and the Order, it would be safe to assume they have information we would find valuable", the Dark Lord gestured his wand towards the Lovegoods.

Draco took out his wand and walked over to stand in front of them. He couldn't show hesitation or fear, no matter how much he wanted to.

He aimed his wand at Xenophilius first and cast a crucio curse. Xenophilius writhed on the ground, screaming in pain, Luna kept her eyes on the floor.

Draco hit him with crucio after crucio until he barely moved. Everytime he refused to answer a question, which was everytime the Dark Lord asked one, Draco was forced to repeat the action.

"Finish him", he instructed. This wasn't the first time he had done this, but like the Dark Lord said, it had been a while. He had no desire to return to these Death Eater duties. Compared to this, Minister of Magic duties were a piece of cake.

Draco took a deep breath before pointing his wand at Xenophilius and shouting, "Avada Kedavra!" Green light erupted from his wand and struck Xenophilius, finally putting him out of his misery.

Luna wept silently, tears flowing down her cheeks, but otherwise remaining calm in a way that only Luna Lovegood could. She had more courage as a Ravenclaw than any Gryffindor ever could.

"I have a hard time believing this one has any information, or even could retain it if she did. I've never seen such an addlebrained witch in my entire life", he said angrily. No one laughed this time, they knew better.

The Dark Lord was clearly irate with the lack of information he expected to receive that day. Hours had passed and the sun was going down. Draco was exhausted from the extensive use of dark magic for the first time in months.

"Kill the girl", he commanded, and stormed out of the room, leaving wreckage of tables, chairs, and cutlery behind him that he had blasted many times.

Draco couldn't, but he had to.

"It's okay Draco", Luna's voice whispered to him, in his ear, as if she was right there. _What the?_

How was she doing that?

"You don't have a choice. I don't blame you for those months in the dungeon. You were just a kid, we all were. It's okay Draco", she told him, where only he could hear it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and aimed his wand.

Luna smiled at him softly, airy blue eyes set on his, and nodded.

"Avada Kedavra", he said loudly, but with little enthusiasm. Enough to do the job.

Her eyes went blank and rolled back into her head, her body collapsing on the floor as the green jet of light overtook her.


	37. Go to Waste

**Song** : Ain't No Sunshine (Lido Remix) - Bill Withers

On Friday when Hermione went to Malfoy's study, he wasn't there. She was halfway to the chair she had claimed as hers the rest of the week when she realized it.

She had come every single day, and they would sit together, mostly in silence. Every now and then a few words would pass between the two of them. Mostly banter and teasing.

Hermione was growing comfortable in their routine, almost happy even. Almost. Something about his presence made her feel safe. No matter how hard he could be on the outside, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Not after their conversation.

He may be a Death Eater, which was irredeemable in her eyes, but he wasn't a rapist. Wasn't a murderer. She knew he failed to kill Dumbledore, and she knew why he tried. For family. And the root of that was not evil, not to Hermione.

He was the Minister of Magic, who happened to be a Death Eater. As long as he wasn't hurting people himself, she could tolerate his presence. She could enjoy the safety she felt.

But who could blame her? _My friends are dead. I'm alone. I'm a prisoner._

This was all she could think about when she was alone, but her thoughts were quieter when she was near Malfoy. Or, her thoughts were about something else. Which was better than falling down the mental well that her consciousness would drop her into every time she was isolated.

Everything was perfectly in place as if he hadn't even entered the room since the previous night. So she wasn't concerned per se, but disappointed. Let down? In her mental well.

Hermione sat in the chair and began to read her book, pretending he was there. _How pathetic have I become? Not pathetic. Alone. In this house. In this world._

She sat all day, hoping he would show up. Every chapter she finished, she dared a glance at the door, as if looking that way would manifest him walking through the door. It never did.

When the sun finally went down, she gave up. Closed the book and went back to her room. She closed the study door quietly and walked to her room, her feet freezing in place when she heard a noise across the hall.

She slowly crept towards Malfoy's bedroom door, lightly placing her hand on it and leaning her ear against it. _Is that...crying? No. Surely not._

The one time she heard of Draco Malfoy crying was from Harry when he hit him with sectumsempra. And it wasn't because he was hit, he was crying when he walked in. Hermione wasn't sure she believed he could cry, couldn't even picture it.

He didn't even cry when his friend Theo died. Why would he be crying now? Unless it was Pansy or someone else. Her heart ached at the sound for some reason.

It sounded like him, like he was trying to be quiet. Like he was trying _not_ to cry, even in the privacy of his own room. Like he couldn't _allow_ himself to feel emotions.

She _knew_ it was him. Everything inside of her told her to walk in, except her mind. So she didn't. She tore herself away from his door and went to her room. _What's wrong with him? Should I...no. It's not my place. It's not my business._

Even while she showered, her thoughts were addled, the sound of his quiet sobs echoing in her ears. So addled, she almost forgot about the dinner scheduled for the next day.

~~~

Saturday morning Bopsy popped into Hermione's room, waking her up with her typical breakfast. "Mudblood is to have dinner with Master Malfoy tonight!", she reminded her.

"Thank you, Bopsy", Hermione responded.

"Clothes will be in mudblood's room at 6!", she informed her with a smile. Hermione thanked her once again and then Bopsy disapparated with a familiar _POP_.

Rather than heading to Malfoy's study since it was Saturday, but mostly because of what she heard the night before, Hermione turned on the record player while she ate breakfast.

She took her time, although she was sick of pancakes, she forced down each bite, stretching it out to take longer than it needed to.

She didn't want to leave her room. Didn't even feel like reading in the massive library full of possibilities that she knew was fully within her graspy. And yet, it was the last thing on her mind.

She spent the day pacing her room as she read, full of anxiety about dinner. She was sipping her tea at the small tea table when a _POP_ came from the other side of the room.

Hermione looked to see a satin, floor length dress hung on her closet door. The crimson color shimmered in the candlelight around the room beautifully. At the bottom of it were a pair of low, gold heels. There were even a few makeup products on the dresser for her to use. She specifically requested them from Bopsy and was thoroughly surprised to see her request had been granted.

The entire time, she couldn't help but feel silly putting in all this effort just for dinner with Lucius, it wasn't like he could see her. She thought better of skipping the formalities though, assuming that a house elf would likely tell him if she didn't. She felt much more comfortable with Lucius now than ever, but she still didn't want to push his buttons and disobey.

The arrival of her outfit meant it was 6pm, so she had two hours to get ready. She took the time to wash her hair. She even found a blow dryer under the sink in her bathroom and she carefully diffused her curls until they were mostly dry. It was amazing what lengths the Malfoys went to for guests rooms that likely hadn't been occupied in quite some time.

She applied light makeup with red lipstick, just because why not? She was pleased that when she slipped the dress on and zipped it up, it was enchanted to fit her perfectly, and the shoes did the same.

She turned to look at the full-body mirror in her room, examining herself. Hermione could barely believe her eyes. She looked...well, not like a prisoner for the first time. Although she hated that the dress left the enchanted dragon mark on her arm out in the open. She almost forgot about it until then, and her curiosity stirred anew.

At that point, she checked the time and saw it was 7:30pm. She grunted in frustration - she had nothing to do until then and she was too anxious for the dinner to sit still.

She paced back and forth until Bopsy appeared to escort her to the dining room.

"Wow, Mudblood is looking beautiful! Bopsy has not seen that dress in years!", the elf told her. Hermione smiled and thanked her for the compliment, but her thoughts lingered on her last statement. _Bopsy has not seen that dress in years? What does that mean?_

"What do you mean, Bopsy?", she finally asked her.

"It means Bopsy has not been seeing that dress in a long time!", she responded happily. _Not what I meant but okay._ She forced a laugh in response so that the elf wouldn't worry.

Hermione followed the elf downstairs to the dining room, dragging her feet the entire way so that Bopsy could stay in front of her. Her short legs were struggling to keep ahead of Hermione.

They arrived at the doors of the dining hall at 7:50pm, which Bopsy eagerly informed her. "Dinner will be served at 8pm but mudblood is welcome to go in now Master Malfoy said to Bopsy!"

Hermione thanked the elf and slowly reached towards the doors with shaky hands, hesitantly pushing them open.

Lucius was already seated at the far end of the long dining table on the other side of the room. She stood still, not expecting him to already be there waiting.

"I didn't invite you to dinner for you to just stand there", Lucius broke the silence, his voice echoing off the walls. She stepped forward hesitantly and began walking the length of the table, unsure of where he expected her to sit.

Lucius gestured to the chair on his right when Hermione grew closer, so she silently took the seat, trying her hardest not to make any noise as she pulled the chair out.

"I've missed our time in the library, I noticed you haven't been there lately", he acknowledged.

"You did? I mean, me too, it was a lovely way to spend my time. How have you been?", she asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Mmm, so why haven't you been in the library? I know you do love to read", he said, sipping his wine. _Damnit, he was right. Nothing got past him. Ever._

"I do love to read", she clarified, ending the statement there. He sat silently, and they both knew why. She hadn't answered the full question.

"I've been...well", she paused. _I've been reading in your son's study, and have kissed him twice now. I quite enjoyed it actually._

"I've been reading in...Malfoy's study", she finished, a tone of question in her voice.

He nodded slowly, though it appeared that he already knew this. No surprise there.

"Wine?", he offered, choosing not to comment on Hermione's answer which she found odd.

"Oh, yes please", she said, feeling idiotic when she realized there was a full glass right in front of her. He chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't know...", she trailed off, shutting herself up by drinking a good bit of her wine.

"How is it?", he asked, continuing to sip his own.

"Lovely", she responded simply. Hermione didn't want to put her foot in her mouth any more than she already had.

Suddenly the door burst open loudly and Hermione turned in her seat to see Malfoy walking in the hall. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his elbows, a few of his shirt buttons undone, looking exhausted. His messy hair looked as if it had been slept on, but the bags under his eyes said that he hadn't slept at all.

He hadn't noticed her until he pulled the chair across from her out and sat down, just then looking up to meet her eyes. Her face went red as his eyes roamed over her. He clearly hadn't been expecting her, and she hadn't been expecting him.

"Draco", Lucius greeted him.

"What are you wearing?", Malfoy said, looking as if he was about to explode and ignoring his father's greeting.

She stared blankly at him, completely lost for words. It was odd to have heard him crying the night before and to see him so angry now right in front of her.

"What the _fuck_ are you _wearing_ Granger?", he shouted this time, rising from his seat loudly.

"There's no need for it to go to waste, Draco", Lucius said in a calm but stern voice, "sit down, dinner is almost ready."

"Go to waste?", Hermione asked in a shaky but curious voice. _What are they talking about?_

"Although I can't see for myself, I'm sure it looks lovely on you", Lucius said to her before turning back to Malfoy. "What do you think, Draco?"

Malfoy's eyes shot back to Hermione and the look he gave her alone could have set her on fire.

"Why the bloody hell-", he paused, "did you tell her to wear it?", he asked his father.

"I gave it to her, sit down Draco", Lucius answered, with more frustration in his voice this time.

"I really didn't mean to upset any-", Hermione began before Malfoy cut her off.

"That's my mother's dress", Malfoy stated. _Oh my God._

Hermione's blood ran cold, she felt sick and she hadn't even eaten since that morning. Why would Lucius give her one of Narcissa's dresses to wear? "Oh my God. I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..I don't...", she stuttered.

Hermione swiftly scooted her chair back, pulling the hem of the dress up so she wouldn't trip, and sprinted towards the doors without another word.

Her feet didn't slow until she reached her room. She leaned against the door trying to catch her breath. _Oh my God why...why would Lucius? Why did..._

She paced the room for a minute before she began trying to take the dress off as quickly as possible without damaging it.

She grunted in frustration when the zipper was stuck and she couldn't get it down. She tried again and again - nothing. It wouldn't budge.

Her heart was racing but she was almost certain it stopped beating when a knock sounded at her door. Her ears rang and she didn't move. Another knock.

She took a deep breath, marched towards the door, and slung it open. Her mind went completely blank when she saw him standing there.

_Malfoy._


	38. Not even the Dark Lord

**Song** : Exist for Love - AURORA

Draco arrived at the manor dripping with sweat struggling to breathe. _I just murdered someone. I just killed someone. Luna Lovegood. Who wouldn't hurt a fly. I did that._

The words she spoke to him before the spell struck her did nothing to ease his panic. His regret. His shame. He was utterly disgusted with himself.

Draco could tell himself all day that he hadn't had a choice, but deep down he couldn't believe that for himself. _It's all my fault._

He had only killed a few other people before this, no one he recognized, and all in self defense. But this was different. He killed Luna for the Dark Lord.

_I killed Luna._

It no longer mattered that he slipped her food while she was down in the dungeons all those months. Because now she was gone. All for nothing. A small show of humanity couldn't compare to killing someone. Now there were two more names to add to his list.

As soon as he shut his door he couldn't hold it in anymore. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands roughly, trying to stop the tears. His mother would be ashamed, but she was dead too. Apparently all he did these days was get women killed or kill them himself.

_What if I get Granger hurt?_

But then a morbid thought crossed his mind. _If the Dark Lord plans to hurt her, there's nothing I can do about it. Not a thing. What if he asks me to kill her myself?_

He sobbed quietly, still making an effort to hold it in. His chest shook and his heart ached. He felt nauseous. He slid down against his bedroom door until he was sitting, pulling his knees up and resting his head between them.

_Who am I to take a life? I didn't have a choice. It was her life or mine._

Draco strongly believed that Luna's life was worth more, but the logical part of his brain knew that it was either her life or both of theirs. If he killed her, she'd die. If he didn't, they'd both die. She seemed to know that too. But again, this did nothing to ease his distress.

After a few more moments of trying to catch his breath, he begrudgingly climbed off of the floor, wiping under his eyes aggressively until the delicate skin under them was raw.

He turned the shower on, took his clothes, and sat down in it, letting the water run over his head, steam filling the room until the air was almost hard to breathe.

_I have to stop caring. It wasn't the first, it won't be the last. I don't have a choice. I can't let things like this phase me._

Draco repeated these thoughts to himself over and over again until he believed them, or at least convinced himself there was truth in them.

Despite it all, something told him that if it ever came down to it, he wouldn't be able to hurt Granger.

~~~

Throughout the night Draco tossed and turned, barely getting any sleep at all. The one time he did fall asleep, he jumped awake to find himself drenched in sweat after numerous nightmares.

He walked to his balcony where moonlight streamed in through the window. Although he was only in his boxers, he opened the glass doors and stood in the freezing cold. Cold wind whipped at his face, turning his nose red, but he enjoyed it.

He enjoyed having a pain to distract from the deeper kind that burdened him.

Eventually, when his fingers would barely move, he closed the balcony doors and climbed back into bed, just to stare at the ceiling until the sun came up.

~~~

Although it was Saturday and Draco wasn't required to work, he decided to do so anyway. He couldn't sit with his isolated thoughts any longer.

He showered again quickly, put on a pair of underwear that hadn't been sweat-through, and dressed in his typical work attire - a black button down, dress pants, and dress-shoes.

Draco spent hours in his study, going through page after page of Ministry work. But his thoughts stirred with something new.

She wasn't here. It was a Saturday, but he was used to her being there while he worked. Missed her even. It was as if even the cells in his body could feel her absence there, and it prevented him from truly getting anything done.

He paced the study, ran his fingers through his hair over and over again.

_Maybe I should go tell her why I was gone yesterday. No, I can't, and why would I? How do I know she even showed up? I could knock on the door and invite her to join me. No, what the fuck? Why would I do that? Well...no. Definitely not. ABSOLUTELY not. Salazar I'm going insane._

Draco spent more time the entire day thinking of his mother, killing Luna, and Granger's absence than doing the actual work he even went to his study to do.

He glanced at the clock when he saw it was dark outside and realized it was already 7:58pm. _Fuck. I don't even want to eat._

He rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and marched angrily down the stairs. _Just more bloody formalities with Father, and for what?_

Draco pushed the doors open harder than was necessary and marched towards his usual seat to the left of his Father at the far end of the table. His thoughts were practically yelling in his ears. _Mother, Luna, Granger._

He pulled his chair out, the legs of it scraping loudly against the floor, and sat down, just then noticing a pair of delicate hands resting on the table across from him.

Draco looked up to see none other than Granger herself. Physically, he felt relieved. Until he saw what she was wearing. His stare made her face turn red but he didn't care. She was wearing his _mother's dress_ for Merlin's sake.

And on top of that, what was she even doing here? She looked just as shocked to see him as he was.

"Draco", his father greeted him.

"What are you wearing?", Draco said, ignoring his father's greeting, his focus still on her. He felt like he was going to explode. It was all too much.

Granger stared blankly at him in confusion. _Are you fucking deaf?_

"What the _fuck_ are you _wearing_ Granger?", he shouted this time, rising from his seat loudly.

"There's no need for it to go to waste, Draco", his father said in a calm but stern voice, "sit down, dinner is almost ready." _Go to WASTE? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_

"Go to waste?", Hermione asked in a shaky but curious voice. _For fuck's sake she doesn't even know? How did she even...?_

"Although I can't see for myself, I'm sure it looks lovely on you", Lucius said to Granger before turning back to his son. "What do you think, Draco?"

Draco's eyes shot back to her. _How dare she. Merlin...Granger looks...beautiful._

His gaze flickered from hateful, to heated, to hateful once again.

"Why the bloody hell-", Draco paused, "did you tell her to wear it?", he asked his father.

"I gave it to her, sit down Draco", Lucius answered, with more frustration in his voice this time.

"I really didn't mean to upset any-", Hermione began before Draco cut her off. _Always "too good to do anything wrong" with this one. Well if he won't tell her then I will._

"That's my mother's dress", Draco stated. Granger went ghostly pale, looking as if she may pass out.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..I don't...", she stuttered. She looked completely panicked and unsure of what to do or say next. _Yes, Granger. Surprise, you CAN fuck up. You're not better than everyone else._

She swiftly scooted her chair back, pulling the hem of the dress up, and sprinted towards the doors without another word.

Her footsteps echoed loudly until she was up the stairs and out of earshot. _Beautiful..._

 _The way that color looked against her skin, her curls cascading down, the warm color of her lips, her amber eyes shining in the candlelight._ He was irrationally angry, but even after she was gone, all he could see was her...

_I fucked up._

"It did", he choked out finally.

His father raised an eyebrow in question "Look lovely on her. It did...", he clarified.

A shit-eating grin grew across his father's face. "I taught you better manners than you just showed towards a woman", he told him.

Draco bit into his cheek. His father was right, and he hated it.

"Fuck!", he finally shouted, pushing his chair out to run after her.

Draco slowed as he reached her door, hesitating before knocking. Nothing. He knocked again, and this time heard a pair of light footsteps growing closer on the other side before the door was slung open.

Fresh tears still lay on her flushed cheeks. _I did that. I did that to her. I hurt her._ He felt sick to his stomach all over again.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"I'm so sorry Malfoy I...I had no idea I swear! I'm so so-", she stopped when he wrapped his long fingers around her hand. His entire body buzzed from the contact in a way he couldn't quite comprehend.

"Granger", he said, "don't-", she cut him off.

"No Malfoy, listen, I didn't have anything nice to wear when Lucius invited me to have dinner tonight and this was brought to my room I swear I didn't-", she started again but he held a finger to her lips instinctively, shushing her calmingly.

"I said don't. I didn't mean to yell at you earlier, it's not your fault", he said regretfully. Hand still holding hers delicately, as if it would fall apart in his own.

She stared at him, eyes wide and glistening with her tears. _How could I do this to her?_

And she was still beautiful, even this way.

"You look lovely", he told her when she didn't respond. "My father was right, it shouldn't go to waste. She'll never get to wear it again - someone deserving of it should."

Her pupils widened. Even he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, but he meant them.

"I...still feel terrible. I just want to take it off and return it...I tried but...", her eyes went to the ground when she paused, before meeting his once again. "The zipper is stuck, I didn't want to damage the dress."

Draco nodded at her in understanding. He stepped into the dark room, moonlight streaming in through the windows, and closed the door behind him. "Turn around", he told her, so she did.

His hands carefully moved her curls over her shoulder so they wouldn't get caught. Draco dragged his fingertips over her shoulder blades, feeling that same buzzing when their skin touched with no barriers.

He found the zipper and slowly slid it down to find she wasn't wearing a bra. He was staring at her bare back, and his mouth went dry at the realization of how intimate the moment was. His hands found their way to her hips and he couldn't make himself move them away.

Slowly, Draco leaned in until his lips were centimeters from the back of her neck. He pressed them there, sucking on it slightly, causing her to emit a small gasp. Granger's hands reached up to play with his hair and he felt like he was on fire.

He swiftly spun her to face him, his eyes immediately locking on her lips as she did the same. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face. The sight of her wetting her lips caused him to bring one hand up, cradling her face in it.

Taking his time, Draco leaned in until their lips finally met, soft and delicate. It wasn't rushed or desperate, it was comfort and warmth.

Her cheek was pleasantly warm against his cold hands, which was amplified when she placed a hand over his. Her other arm found purchase on his upper arm, the one he used to wrap around her waist and draw her closer.

Their tongues met hesitantly, exploring with curiosity and nervousness, and they moaned in unison. Eyes still closed, he pulled his lips away and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I've never met anyone with a glow as inextinguishable as yours", he whispered to her.

Draco pressed a light kiss against her forehead, then turned to leave, closing the door delicately without another glance.

He strode across the hall slowly, entered his own room, then wrapped his arms around himself. His hands were shaking slightly and his heart beat rapidly.

All he could see when he closed his eyes was her crying, sniffling, hurt. He couldn't stand it.

_I will never hurt her. I will never let anyone hurt her, not even the Dark Lord._


	39. Angel

**Song** : I'd Rather Go Blind - Etta James

It wasn't until Hermione had already swung the door open that she realized she was crying. Malfoy wore a look of pity. _I'm pathetic._

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"I'm so sorry Malfoy I...I had no idea I swear! I'm so so-", she stopped when he wrapped his long fingers around her hand. Hermione's hand had been shaking but it stilled, leaving her oddly comfortable when their hands touched. It was like suddenly there was air to breathe and there hadn't been before.

"Granger", he said, "don't-", but she cut him off again. She needed him to listen to her, to _listen_ to her.

"No Malfoy, listen, I didn't have anything nice to wear when Lucius invited me to have dinner tonight and this was brought to my room I swear I didn't-", she started again but he held a finger to her lips, shushing her calmingly. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, she was so embarrassed, and her body was electrified being so close to his. It was an enigmatic sensation.

"I said don't. I didn't mean to yell at you earlier, it's not your fault", he said softly. She slowly opened her eyes to look into the ocean of blue swimming before her.

She stared at him, eyes wide and glistening with her tears. She heard him, but she still felt terrible. _I may not ever see my mother again, but at least mine is alive. His isn't._ Immense guilt threatened to overcome her.

"You look lovely", he told her when she didn't respond. "My father was right, it shouldn't go to waste. She'll never get to wear it again - someone deserving of it should." _I...what...? Did...Malfoy just call me lovely?_

Her pupils widened. Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Surely he was going to tell her he was kidding, or follow it up with something mean, but he didn't. _Maybe I don't know him...at all..._

"I...still feel terrible. I just want to take it off and return it...I tried but...", her eyes went to the ground when she paused, before meeting his once again. "The zipper is stuck, I didn't want to damage the dress." _So embarrassing. SO so embarrassing._

Malfoy nodded at her in understanding. He stepped into the dark room, moonlight streaming in through the windows, and closed the door behind him.

"Turn around", he told her, so she did. Her heart was racing in anticipation, and yet, when he touched her, it felt so natural. His hands were impossibly gentle.

Malfoy carefully moved her curls over her shoulder, and dragged his fingertips over her shoulder blades in the process. Goosebumps arose all over her skin.

He found the zipper and slowly slid it down, and it wasn't until the cold air met her back that she realized she wasn't wearing a bra with the dress. She froze, feeling the heat in her face growing as his fingers spread across her hips.

Malfoy leaned in until his lips were centimeters from the back of her neck, she could feel the heat of his breath there. He pressed them there, sucking on it slightly, causing her to emit a small gasp. Instinctively her hands went up to play with his hair - that beautiful, soft, white hair. Like an angel.

He swiftly spun her to face him, his eyes immediately locking on her lips as she did the same. Hermione couldn't help it when her tongue darted out to wet her lips when all she could think about was his. He brought one hand up to her face, cradling it _affectionately?_ Butterflies stirred in her stomach.

It felt like years until finally he leaned in slowly, and met her lips with his. What shocked her wasn't the kiss, but what was behind it. Tenderness and comfort, as if he was offering it to her without words, and she gladly accepted it. It was all warmth, no desperation or need. Just solace in his kiss.

The rings on his fingers were cold against her cheek, still damp and warm from tears, but she welcomed the contrast. She placed her hand over his, lacing her short fingers through his long ones. Her other hand slid up his arms, feeling the lean muscles underneath his shirt. He brought that hand to her lower back, pulling her waist in, bodies pressed against each other.

Their tongues met hesitantly, exploring with curiosity and nervousness, and they moaned in unison. After a moment, he pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, still cradling her face with his hand. She struggled to catch her breath, and hated the loss of his lips against her own.

"I've never met anyone with a glow as inextinguishable as yours'', he whispered to her. Hermione's heart skipped a beat. No one had ever given her such a complex compliment, one that spoke to her so deeply at that. Nor did she ever imagine it would come from the lips of Draco Malfoy. But somehow, she couldn't imagine it meaning the same from anyone else.

Draco pressed a light kiss against her forehead, then turned to leave, closing the door delicately without another glance.

She stood there in awe. Her skin still burned from his touch - her cheek, her bare back, her lips, her tongue. Completely on fire, inside and out. And if that was what being on fire felt like, Hermione would gladly burn for the rest of her life.


	40. Agenda

**Song** : Maneater - Nelly Furtado

The next day, Draco received a call from the Dark Lord before 8am - he knew it must be urgent so he quickly dressed and floo'd to his lair.

He smoothed his hair back with his hand as he walked past the Death Eaters guarding the door and into the dark room.

"Ah, Minister. Good Morning", he greeted him darkly.

"My Lord", he responded nervously.

The Dark Lord gestured his long, bony fingers towards the chair across from him. Draco obliged. The room was painfully cold but Draco stayed as still as a statue. There was no room for weakness in his presence.

"I know you must be wondering why I called you in on a weekend. I have a proposition for you", he said as Nagini slithered around his chair. Draco knew better than to think he had a choice in whatever this was. There was no saying "no" to the Dark Lord.

Draco nodded in response, waiting for him to elaborate.

"How would you like to be my Fore Garroter?", he said, sipping his goblet full of rancid smelling liquid. Draco quirked an eyebrow in question.

"I want you to make a public spectacle of all executions from now on. Think of it as a live action show. The Incendiaries are casting far too much doubt in my followers, you're going to put that to an end, starting today", he told him, sizing him up with his snake-like, red eyes.

Draco blinked, trying his hardest not to show fear. _Kill more people?_

"My Lord", he began, "while I am honored, I would not want to disappoint you and slack in my Minister duties. I'm not sure I'm the best fit option for the position", he told him smoothly. _No. Please._

"Ah, but I disagree. In fact, the Minister job is just for show as well, you know this. Don't feign idiocy. Think of it as a promotion of sorts. I believe you're _perfect_ for the position. You showed brilliance when I killed your mother, a necessary riddance - I'm sure you agree", he told him.

He nodded in response slowly. _Fucking cunt don't ever speak of my mother again..._

"Fantastic. You start today. A toast?", the Dark Lord said, sliding a goblet across the table to him.

"I'm honored, my Lord", Draco responded before raising his glass in cheers and bringing it to his lips. It tasted like acid against his tongue, but he didn't dare ask what it was. He breathed in deeply after swallowing it down entirely, and a sense of calm washed over him. _Not like there's a choice anyway, might as well suck it up._

"Well, no need to waste time. How may I serve you?", Draco asked him.

The Dark Lord smiled, showing rotten and misshapen teeth, "Well, Fore Garroter, you have quite the agenda today."


	41. Excuse

**Song** : Edge of Midnight - Miley Cyrus & Stevie Nicks

Hermione struggled to comprehend what she was feeling. No matter how hard she tried, she knew in her bones that it was more than human attraction.

And she wasn't the type to not address it head on. She waited a bit longer that day, taking her time eating her pancakes. She even decided to take a long bath, shave her legs with the spare razor under the sink because why not, and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a cream colored sweater.

She kept getting distracted by the ghost of Malfoy's fingers on her body, shaking her head to rid the thoughts, but they always came right back.

She even put on the record player for a while, losing herself in the music and trying to focus on positive thoughts of her parents, praying they were okay. Anything with Stevie Nicks made her think of them.

Although she tried to convince herself she was just enjoying the music and alone time - as if she hadn't had enough of that already - but she was just avoiding what she needed to do.

She even sat and read two books before deciding she had put it off for long enough. _When did the sun go down? Merlin, stop being such a wimp Hermione._

Finally she took a deep breath and forced her feet to march straight out the door and across the hall to Malfoy's door, knocking a little louder than she meant to.

There was no response, and even though it was a Sunday, she decided to check his study. She knocked, no response came, but she opened the door anyway to find Malfoy with his feet up on the desk, button-up hanging completely open with moonlight shining on his pale chest. His cheeks were pink from drinking, the glass in his hand supporting this.

"Evening, Granger", he nodded at her, raising his glass and then tipping it back. _Great, he's drunk._

"I think we should talk", she stated, fiddling nervously with her fingers.

"About?", he asked, forgoing the glass this time and drinking straight from the bottle.

"About last night", she stated, trying her best to appear mature and unflustered.

"I told you it was fine, you didn't know it was my mother's dress", he said, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window.

Her breath caught, "not that", she told him, looking down at her shoes. _Can he not be like this right now?_

"Then what?", he asked teasingly, turning his head to stare her down. _You're really going to play dumb right now?_ Why couldn't he ever grow up?

"Well...you know", she hesitated, quickly losing her last ounce of confidence.

"I'm afraid I don't", he said, sounding cold this time. His gaze had turned sharp and it caught Hermione off guard.

"Draco Malfoy, can you not be so impossible for just _once_ in your life?", she shouted at him angrily now. _He knows exactly what I'm referring to. This is ridiculously childish._

"What? You want to discuss how easy it was for me to steal the air from your lungs? To make you _wet_ with barely any effort? Imagine what I could do if I _really_ tried", he asked her, removing his feet from atop the desk and standing, clearly looking down at her even from across the room.

Her face went red, although she wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger - probably both. " _Excuse me?_ "

His long legs strode over to her casually, his eyes looking at her like he was a predator and she was his prey. She couldn't breathe.

"Bet _Weaselbee_ couldn't do that for you. Bet he _never did_ , am I right?", he said, backing her into the wall. She was dead silent. Hermione hadn't seen him act like this in what felt like years. He continued when she didn't respond, getting closer to her face, "Tell me."

"No, he didn't", she said before slapping her hand over her mouth. _Oh my God why did I say that? Oh my God. Ron. Ron is dead and I...Oh my God._ She felt sick.

"And I did? Tell me that, Granger", he said with a growl.

"Yes", she squeaked through her fingers. _What the fuck oh God._ His eyes darkened intimidatingly.

Suddenly full of fresh indignation, she shoved him in the chest as hard as she could, causing him to stagger back a few steps, his expression shifted but it didn't stop her.

"On second thought, forget it. There's nothing to discuss. I suppose I was lonely. Although I'm not sure what your excuse is", she said boldly, turning to leave and slamming the door behind her.

Hermione's emotions were all over the place. She felt sick about her admission in regard to Ron - her poor, _dead_ boyfriend. She hated herself for it. How could she just admit something like that to Malfoy? How could she admit what he did to her physically? It was absolutely mortifying.

And the worst part? Even after all that, it still stirred feelings in her when he had gotten so close to her face. When she shoved his chest with her hands, skin on skin. She was repulsed by her own physical reactions.

Even her dreams were infested with him. Touching her. Kissing her. More than...

And she couldn't escape it. She told herself she wanted to, that she didn't want any of this and that she hated it. But in spite of it all, he made her feel more than she had ever felt in her life. Despite what she told him, there was no excuse. She had none.


	42. Crossfire

**Song** : Tighten Up - The Black Keys

Draco Malfoy, Minister of Magic, Fore Garroter for the Dark Lord.

That's who he was now. How the world would see him. He should've felt horrified and full of self-loathing, and instead, he just felt numb to his new position.

Sunday morning, the Dark Lord had brought him to a line-up of witches and wizards, none of which Draco recognized.

"Dispose of them however you see best fit", the Dark Lord instructed him. "Oh, and Fore Garroter?", he asked. Draco nodded in response, waiting for him to continue. "Do enjoy yourself", the Dark Lord smirked at him, and then he was gone.

Draco turned to look at the 10 people in front of him. Starting with the closest, an elderly witch who was wetting her pants in fear. He took a deep breath to prepare himself, aimed his wand at the witch, and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light shot out of his wand, causing the woman's body to fall back lifelessly. It reminded him all too much of watching his mother's body do the same just months earlier. However, he was pleasantly surprised that this wasn't nearly as difficult as killing Luna had been.

He moved onto the next person - a grungy looking wizard who appeared to have gone without a shower for quite some time. He spat at Draco's feet angrily.

Draco reared back before aiming his wand at the man and shouting, " _Garrotio!_ ", just like the Dark Lord had told him. A transparent, glowing lasso shot out of the end of Draco's wand, cracking in the air, and wrapped itself around the man's neck. Draco stared in shock - he hadn't meant to hurt the man, but he liked this feeling of control.

Veins popped out of the man's neck as Draco's spell continued to strangle him slowly, his body struggling the entire time, before he finally fell straight on his face. A smirk grew across his face as the lasso retracted itself. _That was almost...fun._

The other eight people still waiting to be executed stared in fear, many of them shaking vigorously. "Unless anyone else would like their end to be that theatric, I suggest you avoid doing anything foolish", Draco told them, before proceeding to finish the job. He didn't have to use _Garrotio_ again, but he wanted to.

The thought of doing this once a week was even...exciting.

~~~

The first thing he did when he got home was go straight to his study and open a bottle of firewhiskey. He had been drinking and unwinding from the day's work for a few hours when a knock came at his door. He knew who it was, but didn't say a word.

"Evening, Granger", he nodded at her when she opened the door, raising his glass and then tipping it back. _What do you have for me this evening?_

"I think we should talk", she stated, fiddling nervously with her fingers. Draco fought not to chuckle at this.

"About?", he asked, forgoing the glass this time and drinking straight from the bottle. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but he was going to make her work for it all the same.

"About last night", she stated, crossing her arms and lifting her nose in the air.

"I told you it was fine, you didn't know it was my mother's dress", Draco told her, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window.

Her breath caught, "not that", she told him, looking down at her shoes. He slowly turned to look at her in challenge.

"Then what?", he asked teasingly.

"Well...you know", she hesitated, clearly becoming nervous and unsure.

"I'm afraid I don't", Draco said, sounding cold this time. His eyes dug into hers, he was growing tired of waltzing around it, but was too stubborn to let her shimmy out of it.

"Draco Malfoy, can you not be so impossible for just _once_ in your life?", she shouted at him angrily now. _You want to play, Granger? Let's play._

"What? You want to discuss how easy it was for me to steal the air from your lungs? To make you _wet_ with barely any effort? Imagine what I could do if I _really_ tried", he asked her, removing his feet from atop the desk and standing, clearly looking down at her even from across the room.

Her face went red, " _Excuse me?_ " He loved the way she was squirming from his harsh words, and he wanted her to squirm for him in more ways than that.

His long legs strode over to her casually, looking at her like he was a predator and she was his prey. In his mind, that's exactly what this was.

"Bet _Weaselbee_ couldn't do that for you. Bet he _never did_ , am I right?", he said, backing her into the wall and pressing hands on either side of her head. He quickly grew impatient when she didn't respond and decided to command her, "Tell me."

"No, he didn't", she said before slapping her hand over her mouth. Draco chuckled, his eyes darkening. _Just as I thought._

"And I did? Tell me that, Granger", he said with a growl. He was already growing hard through his pants from the interaction, her reactions, everything about her. He wanted her badly, and he needed to know that she did too.

"Yes", she squeaked through her fingers. Draco bit his lip. _Fuck, she means that._

Granger's expression grew angry instead of embarrassed before she shoved Draco in the chest as hard. Draco staggered back a few steps, his expression shifting to one of confusion. _Did she not just admit what I do to her? And she's mad about that?_

"On second thought, forget it. There's nothing to discuss. I suppose I was lonely. Although I'm not sure what your excuse is", she said harshly, turning to leave and slamming the door behind her. _Just lonely? Bullshit._

Draco stared at the door long after it had closed behind Granger. He was shocked by her boldness, her claim that she was simply lonely. Her accusation in asking what his "excuse" was. He didn't need one. He did it because he wanted her.

Images of her in that dress flashed in his mind, lining her curves, the bare skin of her back peeking out. He remembered the way her soft neck felt under his lips, the way her hips felt beneath his fingers.

Sure he had teased her in school, and teased her even now, but he wasn't sure what she truly thought of him. She most likely thought that he hated her because of her parentage, but he didn't. He never had. She was simply in the crossfire of his hatred for Potter and Weaselbee, which wasn't her fault, but it wasn't his job to keep her out of it either.

Draco had never really and truly noticed her until recently, she just blended into the trio. But now, she was what he saw day and night, there with him or not. They had a couple moments here and there recently, but last night was...different. He understood why she wanted to talk about it, he assumed she felt it too. But how do you go about addressing something you don't understand?

Seeing Granger in his mother's favorite dress had infuriated him, but it infuriated him even more that she looked so stunning in it. He hadn't been able to help it when the words spilled from his lips when he followed her to her room.

As much as he wanted to blame primal instincts and basic human wants for his actions the night before, he couldn't. Every move he had made was deliberate. He knew what he wanted, and he would take it if it was within his grasp. He just never imagined wanting her, and so badly at that.

She was thrust upon him by the Dark Lord for unknown intentions, but he never wanted her to leave now. He wasn't sure what he was going to do when the time came to bring her to the Dark Lord. He had already promised himself, she wouldn't get hurt on his account.

All he knew was that she was slowly but surely consuming his mind, and he wanted her to consume his body. He wanted to consume hers. Take his time exploring it and claiming it. He wanted last night again, and more. But could he have it?

It took so much out of him to care about his parents and lose them - his mother by death, his father by terrible choices. He wasn't sure he had it in himself to feel for anyone else, and yet there he was. And when Theo died? That was truly the last straw.

What worried Draco was that he already felt it happening, felt _something_. Even when he and Pansy had actually been together back at Hogwarts, none of their time together felt like kissing Granger did. How being _around_ her did.

She was a pawn in the Dark Lord's game, and no good could come from whatever was forming between them. He needed to stop it before it had a chance to become anything. But he simply couldn't. Even teasing her with his words in his study sent a delicious amount of adrenaline through his veins.

But she hadn't reacted how he thought she would. He thought she would argue, push his buttons, be difficult as usual. Ultimately, she said she was lonely, which was very much akin to desperate. And he could understand that. But she was right...what _was_ Draco's excuse? He didn't have one. Sure he was lonely, but that wasn't why he kissed her. And he got the sense that Granger knew that.

It didn't go as expected, but he supposed it was the outcome he wanted. Or at least part of him wanted. He pushed her away slightly, but now all he wanted to do was march straight to her room, take her on any available flat surface, and make her his.


	43. Here Comes the Sun

**Song** : Here Comes The Sun - The Beatles

The next week went by painfully slow for Hermione. She was quite proud of her exit from Malfoy's study if she did say so herself, but she hadn't seen him since that day.

She spent everyday that week in the library, reading more books from section N. She never thought she'd say it, but she was actually getting a little bit tired of reading considering there was literally nothing else to do.

It was bad enough that Hermione felt sure she was already spiraling out with thoughts of Malfoy, dreams of Malfoy. Everything led her back to him. She was living in his home for Merlin's sake.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him leaning in to kiss her neck, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. And that was before her thoughts became darker.

As much as she hated Malfoy being right about her and Ron - loathed him for even bringing him up - he was. Nothing had ever truly been sexual with Ron. Even when he tried to take it there, Hermione wouldn't let it go very far.

Malfoy wasn't the first boy she had ever kissed either, but the first that made her feel this way. It had never felt so natural before, so tempting. But surely it wasn't _because_ of Malfoy. It was as Hermione told him - loneliness.

Even now, halfway through a book, her mind wandered. Visions of moonlight reflecting off of his pale chest, him pinning her against the wall. Him speaking of her "inextinguishable glow"...it made her shiver.

That morning when Hermione woke up, she walked over to the table in her room to eat breakfast, but stopped when she noticed something was different.

The same pancakes, same chocolate chips, but a different word. Instead of the smiley face having "mudblood" for the mouth, it now read "Granger". Hermione dropped her fork which made contact with the plate, causing a loud _clang_ to echo in her ears. _What? Why would Bopsy...?_

Of course, Hermione was happy to no longer see slurs on her breakfast food, but it was still very confusing. What would cause Bopsy to refer to her as "Granger" instead of "mudblood" as she used to? Especially when this had gone on for months without change.

Hermione slowly ate her pancakes, picking at them really, and thought about her words from last Sunday. "I suppose I was lonely". Was she? Of course. But she hadn't considered it much until the words left her mouth. This was more apparent as well once she no longer had regular visits with Lucius.

How bizarre - wishing she was reading to Lucius everyday and spending time with him. Hermione laughed at the thought. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if they didn't talk back much. Lucius was a surprisingly good listener.

Hermione missed her friends who she was certain were all dead. She missed her parents, who she hoped and prayed were living happily and safely in Australia still. She missed Crookshanks as well, and hated the thought that he was probably long gone. That thought alone prevented her from finishing her breakfast.

It would have been nice to at least have a furry companion with her through all of this, but she couldn't do a thing about it, so she tried her best not to fixate on it.

October was quickly approaching. Hermione knew this because the leaves on the trees outside were changing, which she could see from her bedroom window, and it was her favorite time of year. This alone brought her some much needed comfort. Come to think of it, she hadn't even been outside since _May_...

"Bopsy!", she called out, hoping that she could call for the elf like the other people living in the house despite being a prisoner.

A loud _POP_ came from behind Hermione and she turned to find the small elf standing there. "Granger!", Bopsy greeted Hermione with a smile. She tried to fight the look of curiosity that threatened to cross her face.

"Hello Bopsy, am I allowed to go outside?", Hermione asked the house elf nervously. _Please tell me Malfoy isn't so much of a control freak that I can't even do that._

"Granger cannot be leaving the estate but Granger can be walking outside if Bopsy is to go with her!", she responded.

"Could you accompany me outside then, please?", Hermione asked her, "I'd love to walk around the property." _And feel the cold air whipping against my face. Touch a tree, hug it even. See the light of day without it being through a window._

"Yes but Granger should wear warm clothes! It is being cold! Bopsy's nose turns pink everytime Bopsy goes outside!", Bopsy told her. It suddenly dawned on Hermione that Bopsy would be freezing outside, and she couldn't give her clothes.

Hermione went into the closet to change out of her pajamas and into a light blue sweater, jeans, and short boots. A thick, fuzzy, grey blanket caught her eye on one of the higher shelves so she grabbed it and brought it with her back into the room.

Hermione reached out to hand Bopsy the blanket, but the elf went into a panic almost immediately, "Bopsy cannot wear clothes!", she responded while backing away.

"It isn't clothes, you can wrap it around yourself so you won't be so cold", Hermione insisted, trying once again to hand the blanket to the elf. When Bopsy still looked concerned, Hermione continued, "Master Malfoy will be angry if you freeze outside". She felt bad for scaring Bopsy this way, but she knew she wouldn't accept the blanket otherwise.

Bopsy's eyes blew wide and she quickly took the blanket from Hermione's hands. She thanked her, reached up with one small hand to take Hermione's, and proceeded to lead her into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the back doors of the manor.

Cold wind hit Hermione in the face, almost instantly turning her cheeks and nose pink, but she loved it. She could smell the soil from the garden and hear the leaves crunching under her boots as she walked across the grounds.

Bopsy led her up to a marble fountain in the middle of the courtyard which Hermione stared at in awe. It was beautiful, shimmering in the sunlight like it was encrusted in diamonds. She slowly reached out to touch one of the streams of water coming out of it, but quickly retracted her hand from the freezing cold water.

Bopsy, who was still holding Hermione's other hand, hopped up on the side of the fountain and began to walk Hermione in circles around it, humming as she did so. The action seemed almost automatic.

"Bopsy loves Mrs. Malfoy's fountain! Mrs. Malfoy would walk Bopsy around like this and sing! Can Granger sing to Bopsy?", the elf asked Hermione, stopping on the spot and turning to look at her with hopeful eyes.

Hermione's heart ached at the thought of Narcissa Malfoy walking Bopsy around the fountain and singing to her often enough that Bopsy would remember it - miss it. She never knew Narcissa, but she also never could've imagined her treating house elves so well.

"I don't...", Hermione trailed off. She met the elf's eyes, feeling pity for her. She didn't want to hurt Bopsy's feelings, especially not after she came outside with her when she really didn't have to. _If she had such a good relationship with Narcissa, she must miss her terribly...just like the rest of the Malfoy family._

Hermione sighed before nodding her head yes. "What would you like me to sing? I only know muggle songs...", Hermione told the elf, unsure of how she would react to this.

Bopsy practically jumped up and down, "Mrs. Malfoy loves muggle songs! Mrs. Malfoy told Bopsy not to tell Master Malfoy that, but Granger is not Master Malfoy so Bospy can tell her!", the elf said with an excited smile, giggling at the loophole in her instructions.

"Oh, okay perfect!", Hermione said to Bospy after picking her jaw up off the ground. _Naricssa Malfoy liked muggle music? Well that explains the records in my room I suppose...._

"What would you like me to sing then?", Hermione asked the elf.

"Bopsy is not knowing the name! It goes "Little darlin' it is being a cold winter! Little darlin' it is being long time since! Sun, sun, here it comes!", the elf sang in the most tone-deaf yet adorable voice Hermione had ever heard. She laughed in response.

She thought for a moment when realization struck her. "Here comes the sun?", she asked Bopsy.

Bopsy clapped her hands in excitement, "Yes! That is being Mrs. Malfoy and Bopsy's song! Will Granger sing it for Bopsy?"

Hermione chuckled softly. She was more than happy to show the elf kindness, and she hoped she wasn't the only one giving it to her. Clearly Narcissa was good to her, but she couldn't know for sure about Malfoy and Lucius.

She softly began to sing "Here Comes The Sun" by The Beatles while walking around the fountain with Bopsy. Every time she would finish, Bopsy would ask her to sing it again, so she did.

They walked and sang until the sun went down and they were both shivering in the cold, Hermione's throat becoming raw from the constant singing.

Despite the cold growing outside, a small seed of happiness planted itself inside her, and along with it, a new sense of urgency to win the game and escape. Hermione Granger was not a sitting duck. If the sun wasn't coming, she'd create her own. And she'd do whatever it took to do so.


	44. Say It

**Song** : Time of the Season - The Ben Taylor Band

**The Daily Prophet - October 13th, 1998**

The Fall of Hogwarts - The Incendiaries Strike Again

By: Rita Skeeter

Earlier this morning, the infamous Incendiaries decided that they had not inflicted enough death on our society, and bombed the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Why may you ask? That's the question of the year my dear readers.

Despite the numerous attacks on Death Eaters across the Dark Territories over recent months, the Incendiaries most violent attack to date was their bombing of the Ministry of Magic, which is still currently under re-construction with bomb-resistant charms.

Early this morning - approximately 3:19am - the Incendiaries struck, leaving zero survivors and therefore mass murdering teachers and students alike who were soundly sleeping without fear. As with their bombing of the Ministry, the group proudly took responsibility by leaving their signature over the burning Hogwarts as pictured above, a phoenix of smoke.

Many have noted that this phoenix holds striking resemblance to the Dark Mark being left above houses of those resisting the Dark Lord before the war. Some believe it is an insult for them to mimic the greatness of the Dark Lord, others feel it is downright unoriginal.

What is the most insulting part of it all is that they would kill so many innocent pureblood witches and wizards, and proudly claim it.

~~~

Hermione spit her tea everywhere when she saw the Daily Prophet's frontpage that morning. Above the article was a photo - Hogwarts burning still and a smoke phoenix rising above it.

Hermione ran to the bathroom and began throwing up into the toilet. _Oh my God. These aren't former resistance members, can't be! They would never kill innocents like this!_

She flushed the toilet and slowly climbed to her feet, making her way back to the table and forcing herself to read the article. She checked the time and saw it was about 10am, and quickly rushed to Malfoy's study without thinking.

Malfoy was seated at his desk in his work clothes, looking completely unphased by the news that shook Hermione, a glass of firewhiskey already in his hand this early. It clearly wasn't his first drink of the morning either.

He slowly turned her direction and glanced up at her casually, swirling his drink in the glass.

"You're here", she remarked, feeling extremely relieved though she tried to hide it.

"Yes, well, this is my house", he said arrogantly before downing the alcohol.

Hermione sighed, not even feeling the energy to address his sarcastic comment. "What happened?", she asked him, hugging herself with her arms in the doorway.

"I know you've been here quite a while Granger, but I'm fairly certain you're still literate if you could be bothered to pick up a newspaper", he responded to her. _That's it._

Angrily, Hermione marched towards Malfoy, grabbing the glass from his hand. "Stop being such an _arse_. You and I both know you aren't good at feigning ignorance."

"Touche", he responded while looking at her. He glanced at the bottle on the desk and took a swig directly from it.

"Cut the shit and just tell me what's wrong", Hermione said, leaning against the desk, her silk pajama shorts rising up further.

She noticed his eyes dart to her thighs and then back to the bottle before taking another swig. Hermione fought the urge to adjust her shorts - she was playing the game, the fire in her growing anew.

Malfoy cleared his throat before responding, "The Dark Lord wasn't to happy about this morning's events." He sounded exhausted, and Hermione was just then noticing the bags under his eyes.

"It's not like anyone could have predicted that Hogwarts of all places would be bombed...it's...", her voice faded away. She wanted to defend the Incendiaries so badly for their resistance against Voldemort, but she knew she couldn't reasonably do so.

"Well, the Dark Lord disagrees", Malfoy told her. "As the Minister of Magic and...", he paused for a moment, clearing his throat before continuing, "the responsibility falls on me. As do the repercussions."

She fully took in his appearance then, noticing the unbuttoned dress shirt revealing several deep, fresh cuts all over his chest. "Oh my God, you're hurt!", she exclaimed, one hand going to his chest to touch and inspect one of his many injuries.

He winced and she quickly withdrew her hand, apologizing for her rashness. Her fingers prickled with electricity from touching him for the first time in over a week...

She leaned forward to look closer at his injuries, unsure if they were magical or not, and lightly placed her hand on his chest again. This time she was careful to avoid directly touching any of the wounds.

"This looks like...", she began but trailed off.

"Sectumsempra", Malfoy finished for her, grimacing against her light touch on the sensitive injuries. "Not like it's my first time", he responded with a dark chuckle.

She hesitated, feeling guilty that Harry had done that to Malfoy once, but feeling less guilty when she remembered that he was dead and Malfoy wasn't. "Who did this?", she asked him.

"I'll give you one guess", Malfoy responded shortly.

She nodded in understanding. "Right well...I'm going to help clean these up."

He met her eyes with an unreadable expression. "Please", Hermione begged.

Without breaking their eye contact, he called for Bopsy. "We need medical supplies", he informed her simply when she appeared.

The elf quickly conjured tools and supplies for his wounds on the desk and she disappeared with a _POP_.

"Is it...just on your abdomen?", Hermione asked him hesitantly.

Malfoy began to remove his shirt in response, revealing similar deep cuts all across his upper body, arms, and back. She gaped at the sight, but her focus was especially drawn to seeing the Dark Mark on his arm. This was the first time she had truly looked at it.

It was a deep contrast with the black design against his fair skin. It actually reminded her of the red dragon that resided on her own arm. She couldn't help but notice that similarity.

Hermione was horrified by all the blood covering him and she had to stop herself from gasping. She slowly began reaching for supplies to clean the wounds before telling Malfoy, "This is going to sting a bit."

He nodded in response, wincing as she began to clean the first wound. After an hour had passed, no words spoken between them the entire time, Hermione finally finished cleaning and dressing the last wound.

"I can take this back downstairs to Bopsy", Hermione said as she started to gather up the supplies, but she stopped when long fingers wrapped around her wrist. She slowly turned to face him, her still standing and him looking up at her from the chair.

"Why?", he asked her calmly.

"Well, so Bopsy doesn't have to-", she began before Malfoy cut her off.

"No. Granger, why did you clean my injuries?", he asked genuinely.

"I...I guess I just...didn't want them to get infected", Hermione responded, now unsure herself why she did it. She started to turn back towards the desk when he grabbed her other wrist as well, pulling her softly to stand between his knees.

The room was palpably tense, him still shirtless and holding her so close this way.

"Look at me", he said to her, "Is that really why?"

She met his gaze, hesitating at first, "I suppose it bothered me that you were hurt. I just wanted to help. Is that what you wanted to hear?", she asked, feeling frustrated.

"Is it the truth?", he asked her.

"Yes", she stated plainly, almost insulted that he thought she would lie about this.

He chuckled, causing Hermione to give him a puzzled expression. _Is this funny? He's really making fun of me for helping?_

Malfoy slowly stood from the chair, backing her against the desk until she couldn't go any further. He leaned down, placing a hand on either side of her, "Granger, were you worried about me?", he asked her in a husky tone.

Her breath caught. "Yes", she whispered truthfully, and his lips came crashing down onto hers, much more forcefully than the last time. He tasted of firewhiskey, and she could still smell the dried blood from his healing wounds, but she didn't care. A fire was rising deep inside of her that she wasn't sure she could put out even if she wanted to. Game or not.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands came to her hips, lifting her on top of the desk. He parted her legs and stepped between them.

"Please say it", Malfoy told her between heated kisses.

"What?", she could barely get out, struggling to breathe from the force of his mouth on hers.

"That you were worried about me", he clarified, moving to kiss her neck now. Her head went back and she gasped audibly.

"Malfoy", she breathed heavily, "I-", but he cut her off.

"Say it", he commanded.

"I was worried about you", she said instantly, and her face filled with heat at this truth.

Their lips met again, his tongue pushing in to find hers. A few moments passed before he pulled away and took a few steps back. "Fuck", he muttered.

"What?", Hermione struggled to catch her breath still.

"I need to get back to work", Malfoy stated plainly, pulling his shirt back on.

"But...I-", Hermione started again.

"Granger, don't make me force you. This is not the time for discussion", he growled at her.

Hermione felt tears of confusion and hurt prickling her eyes, she was absolutely mortified at this. How could he do these things to her and then force her away every time? No. She would win the game, feelings or not.

"It's hilarious that you always think you're in charge, _insist_ on it even", she said, walking closer to him this time. She raised both hands to his abdominal muscles, stroking them softly. His eyes closed in response.

"Force me then. If you're such a big bad Death Eater then _prove it_ ", she pushed.

His silvery eyes shot open and he swivelled them until she was against the wall. He pressed his bare abdomen up against her, her breasts touching him through the silk pajamas, her nipples betraying her arousal.

"You underestimate what I'm capable of", he said, running his hands up her bare thighs.

"It doesn't matter what you're capable of", Hermione said, leaning in to grab his ear between her teeth and tug on it, "if you're too much of a _pussy_ to do anything at all."

He swiftly grabbed her ass, lifting her against the wall to wrap her legs around his waist, causing her to gasp. She could feel he was hard against her core and it filled her with an insatiable need she had never known before.

Malfoy nipped at her neck, sucking and biting aggressively. "And what is it you think I'm too much of a pussy to do, love?"

Hermione hesitated. She felt utterly weak from his touch, wanting nothing more than to feel every part of him, and she couldn't even think twice about it.

"Granger", he said, grinding his pelvis against hers as they both groaned with want. But Hermione refused to respond. She couldn't. Because she would expose herself for something she had wanted for a while now, but was too mortified to admit.

"Tell me what you want", he finally commanded her, pulling back to look into her eyes.

Hermione bit her lip, "Fuck me", and it was like she saw the flames ignite in his eyes.


	45. Draco

**Song** : Friends - Chase Atlantic

"Fuck, Granger", Draco muttered. _Fuck me._

It was like she had lit a match. One he didn't want her to put out. Especially not after her confession.

He began sucking on her neck again before slowly making his way down her chest, the straps of her silk top falling off her shoulders. She moaned loudly, which only made him grow harder.

He brought a hand up underneath her top, pausing to look at her for permission and she nodded quickly. He lifted her top over her head and stared in awe at her breasts. "Merlin, Granger. You're beautiful", he told her, his eyes raking across her bare skin.

Her face flushed pink and she gasped when he closed his lips around her nipple, tugging softly and making it stiff under his mouth. He quickly found the other and repeated the action. He was aching with need by now.

He pushed his cock against her, needing some kind of resistance, and they both groaned heatedly. "Draco", she begged, and he thought he would lose himself from that alone.

He squeezed her ass tightly and leaned into her ear, "Say it again."

"Draco- _oh God_ ", she responded when he slid a hand down her shorts, "please", she begged him. He chuckled into her neck in response.

"Do you want this?", he asked her as his fingers lingered at her slit, rubbing it lightly and gathering the wetness there. "Fuck, you're so wet for me"

"Yes, _please_ ", she breathed heavily.

He slowly slid one finger inside of her, curling it skillfully against her front wall. She moaned at this repeatedly, gasping loudly when he added a second finger.

He used his thumb to circle her clit softly as he began kissing her neck again. "Can you come like this?", he whispered in her ear.

"W-what?", she asked, stuttering her words, but her moans became louder and more dramatic and he knew she was close.

It was clearly building inside her and he couldn't wait to see it. To see her come undone for _him_ \- from _his_ touch. He wanted it more than his own release. And he was determined.

"Granger, I need you to do something for me", he told her.

"Y-yes?", she asked, her words becoming more and more difficult to get out as she gasped and convulsed slightly, gripping at his shoulders and hair to steady herself.

He chuckled darkly before curling his fingers inside of her and circling her clit one last time before meeting her eyes and commanding her, "Come".

Her eyes rolled back and she screamed, profanities finding themselves between her moans. It was the most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen. Her curls slightly wild and falling into her face. Her cheeks pink and lips swollen, her breasts out in the open.

Draco held her in his arms kissing her cheek and stroking her hair affectionately. He was hard as a rock, but already concerned he had gone too far. Had he taken advantage of her? Just because she wanted something didn't mean she was _willing_ or _consenting_ to it. And she only told him she wanted it because he made her...

He lowered her to her feet and pulled back slowly, unable to meet her eyes now...those gorgeous, glittering amber eyes. Draco picked her shirt up off the floor and handed it to her without looking.

He stared the other way, trying to figure out what to say or do, but suddenly he heard the sound of a door slamming. He looked up, but it was too late, Granger was gone.


	46. 'Worse'

**Song** : Pyramids - Frank Ocean

Hermione leaned against her bedroom door, catching her breath and clutching her pajama top to her chest - she hadn't even taken the time to put it on. Simply grabbed it from his hands and sprinted out the door. She had just had the most blissful moment of her life with _Draco Malfoy_. And then...

It had become terribly uncomfortable and awkward. She was absolutely mortified.

The things he said to her - _did_ to her had her clenching her thighs together. Her hands were trembling at the thought that he was just a room away. Only a single wall between them.

She glanced at the clock - 11am. _Are you fucking kidding me?_

How could she even leave her room after that? It was barely midday. And once again, she had absolutely nothing to do. She had given more to him than she had ever given to anyone, but that wasn't even the most puzzling part of it all.

The way he stroked her hair, stroked her _lower_. All without taking anything for himself...but why? That certainly didn't sound like the Malfoy she knew. Especially not him holding her in his arms afterwards so...affectionately?

And oh Godric, she had called him _Draco_ \- and he had liked it. He even told her to say it again, and she did without a second thought.

She went straight to the shower, turning the water as hot as it would go, and stayed there until her skin turned red from the burn of it. But even through the steam filling the room, she could hear his voice, feel his touch, and even smell him. Firewhiskey. Peppermint. Teakwood. As if it was inside her and she couldn't escape it.

Suddenly there was a pounding on her door that she could hear even from the shower. Hermione quickly turned the water off and wrapped a towel around herself, dripping water on the floor as she shuffled across her bedroom. The pounding came again and she quickly opened the door just enough to peek out of it.

Malfoy was standing there. _Perfect._

He shoved the door open, causing her to stumble a few steps back from the slippery floor and she wrapped the towel more tightly around herself. She couldn't even bring herself to make eye contact with him.

Hermione stood there silently, waiting for him to get to whatever was such an urgent matter that he had interrupted her shower. Now was really not the time for this.

His eyes roamed over her before quickly darting back up to her eyes. He turned the other way looking contrite - Hermione was sure this was solely for her benefit.

Malfoy cleared his throat before stating plainly, "I have some news." She didn't say a word, just stared at the back of his bright, blonde head as he continued. "The Dark Lord feels the need to show a strong front in light of the attack on Hogwarts, and has insisted there be a ball here at the manor on Halloween."

There was a painful silence that she knew implied he was waiting on her response, or at least some sign of understanding. "So...I need to stay in my room the entire night. Got it", she stated in a bored tone. _This is really what you came in here for?_

He turned slightly, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Unfortunately", he paused, "it's not that simple." His expression was dark and unnerving.

Hermione wrapped the towel more tightly around herself, "what do you mean?", she asked hesitantly.

"Since it's been...quite some time since you were seen publicly...the Dark Lord is insisting on your presence at the ball. Most don't even know you're still alive...", he told her, appearing to show no emotion, but his eyes said otherwise.

"M-my presence?", Hermione asked. Her heart was racing furiously. She was horrified at the thought of this - being thrown into the center of a snake pit. Literally.

He nodded, gaze on the floor now. "They", he paused, "the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters are under the impression that you've been treated much worse here at the manor..."

Her eyes shot up to him, "What the _hell_ does that mean, Malfoy?", she demanded. He appeared to cringe when she called him Malfoy...instead of Draco?"

"It means you need to be prepared for...worse. On that night only. Halloween", he clarified.

His eyes wandered up to meet hers but didn't linger on her towel-wrapped body. "Define 'worse'", she demanded.

Malfoy sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I believe the Dark Lord plans to make a mockery of you that night, I'm just not sure how. We need to be prepared for anything. I wouldn't worry too much, I assume he needs you mentally sound for what he has planned, but it will undoubtedly be worse than the rest of your stay has been."

 _And what is it that he has planned then?_ "Why?", she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well as you know, he loves to flaunt his power in any-", he began before she cut him off.

"No. _Why_ are you bothering to warn me about this?", Hermione asked him.

He paused, eyes flickering around the room before landing on her again. He took a deep breath, "because I'm worried about you". Hermione's heart ached. She was worried about him and admitted it, and he had done the same. Her gaze softened at his admission.

"I need to 'train' you so to speak. In a way that you'll be prepared for that night. You will have dinner with Father and I every night from now on, starting tonight.

Hermione stared at him, jaw on the floor. _Every night? For the next month?_

She wasn't sure if she could be anymore mortified at this point. Malfoy had given her her first _orgasm_ barely an hour ago, which she prayed he hadn't figured out. And now she was standing in a towel as he explained that she would be quite possibly tortured on October 31st for all of Voldemort's followers to watch. To top it all off, she had to have dinner with Malfoy and Lucius every night for the rest of the month just to prepare for it.

Now, Hermione regretted wishing for something to do. She'd rather read herself to death in the Malfoy library than face Voldemort. 18 days. 18 days until she would be face to face with the snake that murdered her friends and brought down what she knew of the Wizarding world. This was definitely worse.


	47. B is for Black

**Song** : Sex, Drugs, Etc. - Beach Weather

After receiving the invitation to the Dark Lord's Halloween Ball, which was to be held in Draco's own home, he almost went into a state of panic. Not only was it news to him that there would be a ball, and in his own home at that, but his thoughts were consumed with worries of what that meant for Granger.

The invitation held specific details that "the mudblood" was to make an appearance for entertainment purposes. _Mother of Salazar Slytherin - that's just fucking perfect._

And after all that had happened between Draco and Granger that morning? The timing couldn't have been any better, but he knew the best thing to do was to get a head start and inform her. No matter how uncomfortable it may be, especially after her swift exit.

And telling her? Well that had gone just _lovely_. But Draco knew he couldn't expect too much. He knew her better and better by the day, and he couldn't blame her for being angry about it. Draco himself was angry too, but he couldn't let that on.

His Dark Mark started to burn right at that moment. _I mean is he fucking bored? Merlin, this has already been the most up and down day in my fucking life._

Draco took the floo straight from his office to see the Dark Lord.

"Afternoon, Fore-Minister", he greeted him. Draco fought the urge to chuckle. Boy did this wizard love titles.

"My Lord, you called?", he responded seriously.

"Yes, I've decided today will be the first public execution for media purposes. While the ball will be a great help for our efforts in a couple of weeks, it's beyond time I make the repercussions of these fallacious attacks well known", the Dark Lord said, rising from his chair as Nagini circled him as usual.

Draco simply nodded in response and followed the Dark Lord out the back doors of the room. He had never been this way before. He stepped out onto what appeared to be a stage attached to the back of the Dark Lord's home, lit up in painfully bright light.

There was a row of people lined up on their knees. They were all blindfolded with their arms tied behind their backs in ropes - blood dripping from their wrists.

Draco slowly circled them, already dreading what was to come. He couldn't help but notice one of the wizards was a ginger who looked strikingly similar to Weaselbee. But then again, his eyes were covered, dirt all over his clothes, and didn't all those Weasley's look the same anyway?

Suddenly the Dark Lord spun his wand in the air, casting a broadcasting to spell likely to every household in the Dark Territories. He slowly raised his wand to his throat and stared out to the large rectangular opening in the sky that was telecasting them.

"Good afternoon my dear followers - witches and wizards across our world. The events that took place this morning were intolerable, and any magical being who assisted in it will be found and put to death, I can promise you that. Do not fear for your life, for you are on the right side of history! It has been a long and winding road thus far, and this is nothing but a bump along it. I give my deepest and sincerest condolences to those who lost their lives this morning in the attack as well as their loved ones. Let my words ease any concerns you may have - this is only the beginning, and it is our time to come forward as the true superiors of this earth. To seal this promise, I have a wonderful announcement to share with you all. Many of you have heard of the Minister of Magic, Draco Malfoy, but I recently learned he holds more potential than that. Henceforth, he will be my Fore Garroter - a lead executioner of sorts. He has shown great potential thus far, and I'm confident in his ability to bring justice to our people, starting today."

He slowly turned to face Draco before addressing him, "Fore-Minister". He waved his hand in Draco's direction and removed the wand from his throat before whispering to him in a cold, gravelly voice, "Enjoy yourself", a smirk slithering across his face.

The all too familiar words climbed their way up his spine and seemed to spread across his body. Draco knew exactly what the Dark Lord was calling for. And it wasn't a simple execution. It was...a _spectacle_ , as he had referred to it before.

Draco strode in front of the first wizard, stopping a few feet back. The Dark Lord removed the blindfold from the man's eyes, forcing him to watch what he was about to endure, as if feeling it wasn't enough.

It was as if Draco could feel the eyes of every single person across the Territories watching him, even if they weren't physically there. He gritted his teeth together and aimed his wand. As Draco stared into the man's deep brown eyes, full of fear that he could only imagine, he shouted "Garrotio!".

The magical lasso shot out of his wand and wrapped around the man's neck. Blood began to pool around the edges and drip down his throat, staining his clothes. Draco yanked, feeling adrenaline course through his veins, and the lasso tightened. Veins bulged from the man's neck, turning deep shades of blue and purple.

Finally, one last yank of the lasso, and the man's eyes rolled back, his body collapsing to the ground with a hard thud. A smile crept across Draco's face that he hadn't even noticed, and the Dark Lord returned it. "Excellent", the Dark Lord commended him.

Without hesitance, Nagini attacked the dead wizard and those still alive screamed from the vicious sound of the snake making the man into his own meal.

Draco went down the line in similar fashion until his shirt was coated in the blood of witches and wizards he had never and would never know. His biceps ached from the excessive use of magic but it felt like morphine was flooding his veins.

When he got to the Weaslbee look-alike, the Dark Lord instructed him to go a step further, and he had a feeling he knew exactly why. For all the public knew, this _was_ ⅓ of the golden trio. Not just a random wizard.

First, Draco cast a spell to blind him, one eye at a time. Not like the spell the Dark Lord used on Draco's father. No - this one was much more painful. He also assumed this would only make it look more like the famous redhead. That Skeeter bitch would have a field day.

He cast a stabbing spell into the man's eyes one at a time, causing him to scream even louder than the others could who were choked to death. He would be choked to death as well, just not yet. This was the main attraction.

The Dark Lord slowly walked towards Draco, pausing him with a hand. "How about a more... _involved_ approach, Fore-Minister?" He pulled a silver blade with a black handle out of his pocket and handed it to Draco.

Draco took the blade, turning it over in his gloved hands, inspecting it. He couldn't help but notice the embellished "B" on it, and he immediately recognized it as his Aunt Bellatrix's. What that meant for his Aunt, he wasn't sure, nor did he care. Although, the B could've stood for "Black". He decided to go with that for now, choosing to associate it with his deceased Mother and her maiden name over his psychotic Aunt.

He walked around to stand behind the ginger, although it wasn't as if he could see Draco anyway. But this was a show, and he couldn't block the audience.

Draco gripped the blade tightly in his right hand, using his left to hold the man's chin up and he cried and begged for mercy. Slowly and with a steady hand, Draco brought the blade to the wizard's neck and dragged it across the skin just enough for it to begin bleeding, pressing deeper on his carotid artery.

The wizard coughed aggressively as he began to bleed out quickly from the neck, sputtering and gagging. Draco stepped away from the man and began to clean the blade off with his sleeve before offering it back to the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord smirked gruesomely and gave Draco a slow-clap in reward for his work. "Keep it, you've earned it", he told him, so Draco slid the blade into his pocket.

By the end of it, Draco was _laughing_. Truly and genuinely laughing. He had never felt so powerful before, and it was an addicting sensation. _Maybe this isn't so bad after all_.

It wasn't until he floo'd back home that he realized he was truly _coated_ in blood. It dripped from his Death Eater boots and stained his shirt. It was even in his hair and all over his face. He stared in the mirror, feeling surprised that a few weeks ago he would have been disgusted, but now he felt nothing. Proud maybe, if anything.

He glanced at the clock then, realizing it was already 7:00pm. Where had the day gone?

He quickly showered and dressed for dinner, almost completely forgetting who would be joining him there and why.


	48. Above all, be smart

**Song** : Sit Next To Me - Foster the People

Hermione took the rest of the day to frolic around the property with Bopsy - or she tried to at least. Bopsy froliced. Hermione moped, but she was thankful the elf didn't notice, or ask her to sing. She wasn't really in the mood, unless Bopsy was up to hearing doomsday tunes.

She laughed to herself - doomsday had come and gone. Yet she felt as if she were living it everyday, and more so now that she had a ball with Lord Voldemort himself to look forward to.

"Hmmmm-good to be true! Can't hmmm-eyes off you!", Bopsy sang as she held Hermione's hand and they walked through the gardens.

 _Can't take my eyes off of you,_ Hermione corrected to herself. She truly didn't mind the elf's tone-deaf singing, her spirit brightened her days regardless. She couldn't help but wonder how many muggle songs Narcissa sang to Bopsy when she was alive.

After walking around outside for hours, she felt the need to shower for the second time that day, but she reveled still in the fact that she _could_. She had about two hours until dinner and her heart beat loudly in her ears in anticipation.

When she was towel drying her hair, she walked into her room to see an outfit already laid out. Just like the first night. She silently prayed this wasn't another Narcissa dress, but she had a bad feeling there was no other place to get dresses for such occasions, not without raising suspicion. But then again, she still struggled to understand the purpose of these formalities anyway. The Malfoys truly were something else.

Hermione decided to do her hair and makeup first - she'd rather wait until the last minute to put on the dress. She was in the middle of putting on lipstick when she froze at her reflection in the mirror. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I care?_

She quickly grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the color from her lips, feeling foolish for caring about her appearance now when she hadn't before. He had literally seen her boobs and had his fingers inside of her.

She felt ridiculous but found herself grabbing another lipstick. A nude color this time. She tried to reason with herself that it was odd for her to wear other makeup _without_ lipstick, and odd to dress so nice without wearing makeup at all.

When Hermione couldn't wait any longer, she turned to the dress that lay on her bed. This one was much simpler than the first - a deep plum color, with silver shoes this time. This dress had a higher neckline, and slit on the left leg that stopped about mid-thigh.

Hermione glanced in the mirror one last time, deciding to throw her curls into a loose ponytail, allowing a few strands to stay out and frame her face. Not that it mattered, but she felt it was more complimentary to the dress.

All that mattered was that tonight, she was learning to play a part. A new game, one she'd be rehearsing for the next two-ish weeks until the final show.

She made her way downstairs alone, not walking into the dining room until exactly 8pm. Malfoy and Lucius were already seated and mid-conversation, but both went silent and turned her direction when they heard the doors opening. "You'll sit next to me", Malfoy instructed. She tried to stop herself from showing discomfort with this.

Hermione walked the length of the room, her heels clicking against the floor, until she finally reached the seat to the left of him. Unsure of what to do once she sat and feeling both of the mens' glances on her - despite the fact that one of them couldn't even see - she placed her hands on her lap.

The silence was painful in her ears - ringing and empty. Her eyes wandered the table until they landed on the wine glass in front of her. She promptly grabbed it and downed the entire thing without thinking, feeling pleased when it refilled itself magically and she downed it a second time.

"Take it easy, Granger", Malfoy laughed, placing a hand over hers and forcing her to put the glass back on the table. She scowled at him in response, which he seemed amused by.

"Nothing wrong with a little liquid courage", Lucius remarked with a chuckle, downing his own drink. Malfoy rolled his eyes at his father, who he clearly did not care to be around.

"Listen, because we don't entirely know what to expect, we need to practice multiple scenarios. Tonight you'll eat at the table with us, tomorrow will likely be a different story", Malfoy informed her. She simply nodded in response, feeling no need to speak at this point.

He sighed, clearly frustrated with her lack of vocal confirmation. "My advice is as follows", he began, "If you are offered something, take it. Do not speak unless specifically asked or told to. Do not look at someone unless they address you and even then, proceed with caution. In fact, the best thing you can do is to look down at your plate, lap, or feet at all times. It will make things easier. If you are insulted, your friends are mentioned, any number of things, the best you can do is ignore it and not let it get to you. The Dark Lord may need you mentally sound, but that doesn't mean he won't be willing to punish you out of anger. Just...don't be a Gryffindor for once, okay Granger? Don't be a hero. Be brave, but above all be smart. I know you are, but can you choose to do that for me?"

She stared at her lap, fiddling with her thumbs and contemplating his words. She hated it but he was right. She couldn't be a Gryffindor that night. And she would have to practice _not_ being one until the 31st.

Finally, Hermione looked up and met his eyes. They looked sorrowful, pitiful even. She nodded in response, feeling unsteady by his words and expression.

The thought of all of this made her sick, and she was suddenly thankful for the conditions she had been living in since the war. Hermione had never truly considered how much worse it could have been.

Her mind began to run through various scenarios - being raped, physically abused and tortured, maimed, any number of cruel things.

_Don't be a hero Hermione, be smart. You are smart. Don't let bravery or pride get in the way. No matter what they say or do._

And so it began.


	49. Hermione

**Song** : New Girl - FINNEAS

Dinner with Lucius and Draco went relatively well. It wasn't painful, not as much as Hermione imagined it would be at least. She kept her eyes to her plate and didn't speak unless spoken to - which was mostly by Lucius anyway.

Draco even walked Hermione to her room wordlessly afterwards, holding her hand as she walked up the stairs. It was almost gentlemanly of him which she certainly didn't see coming.

He lingered at her door when they finally got there, having spent the entire walk in silence, but she lingered too. Hermione's hand reached for the doorknob, but she couldn't turn it. She could feel his presence behind her, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

Hermione sighed heavily before turning to look up into his eyes. Draco was biting his cheek harshly, both hands in his pockets. He stared back, neither of them breaking the silence but neither breaking the eye contact either.

She held her breath when he pulled one hand from his pocket and tucked a curl behind Hermione's ear. Her heart rate was fluttering and she didn't know what to say or do in this moment. All she could do was micro-analyze every interaction, every movement, every word spoken. There wasn't much to analyze in that moment, yet it felt like a mountain of hidden information just sitting before her uncovered.

He took one of her hands in his and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes and pressing a gentle kiss to it. "Inextinguishable Granger. Just be smart", he whispered before taking a few steps backward and turning to go into his own room.

Hermione stood there in the hallway for a few moments longer, taking in the tingling sensation on the top of her hand where his lips were. _So much uncovered._

Her mind was in knots at this point, there was too much to unravel and she didn't have it in her to do so. But maybe what was most knotted was her own thoughts and feelings about Draco himself. _What have I gotten myself into. I'm going to get burned if I keep playing with fire. I'm going to get burned._

The next day was a Wednesday. The middle of the week, meaning Draco would likely be working in his office as usual. What was she to do with that? It was mid-October, and she wasn't any closer to finding out what Voldemort had in store for her. Should she be focusing on Halloween? Sure. But that was something to do at dinner.

Hermione still had the rest of the 22 hours in the day to get information. How had she been so distracted this entire time? _It's been 6 months, get it together._

But how in the hell was she supposed to distract Draco long enough to snoop? Maybe if she was lucky he would be called away for some ridiculous Death Eater duties, but deep down she wanted him there with her. She needed to find a way to snoop. In his study, his office, maybe even the rest of the manor, but she knew this wouldn't go unnoticed by at least _someone_. Even if that someone was a house elf that tattled.

_I could always distract him, I know exactly how..._

No. Not a slag. She was worth more than that. _But..._

Feeling fed up, she ate a few bites of her breakfast and put on the tightest clothes she could find in her closet. A pair of black leggings and a lightweight cardigan over a Slytherin green fitted tank - his favorite color. She assumed at least. These days it could have just as likely been black. She'd have to play around with this to figure it out.

She scolded herself the entire time she got dressed and fixed the ponytail she had slept in, but Hermione truly felt that she had no other option. Deciding against shoes, she put on black socks, wrapped the cardigan around herself nervously, and went to his office without a book.

Hermione knocked lightly before entering - no reason to go in guns a-blazing. Draco sat leaned over his desk, the tip of a quill between his teeth, and his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He glanced up at her through his lashes, a subtle look of surprise on his face. He was wearing a pair of black dress pants with a silver belt holding them up on his hips. His dress shirt was only 2 or 3 undone from the top, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows which accentuated the lean muscles of his arms.

And the color of his dress shirt? Slytherin green. _Fantastic. We're fucking matching. Except he looks better in it._

He chuckled lightly, a small dimple flashing on his left cheek that Hermione had never noticed before but found herself quite fond of.

"What do you want, Granger?", he asked playfully, leaning back from the papers in front of him. _Time to play, Hermione._

She put her hands behind her back, letting the cardigan hang open, and smiled at him. "Why would you assume I want anything?", she asked.

"My apologies - maybe _who_ do you want is the better question", he remarked, a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

Hermione's face dropped in embarrassment. _No, don't be scared. You can be a Gryffindor right now, so be fucking brave._ She slowly started to pace towards him, feigning confidence.

She dragged a single finger across his desk slowly, not stopping until she was standing over him. Leaning in until her lips tickled his ear, she whispered, "Why ask a question you already know the answer to?" Hermione heard his breath hitch and silently celebrated. _I'm winning._

Suddenly a cold, ring-wearing hand grabbed the back of her neck tightly, causing her to gasp. It pulled her back until she was face to face with Draco. "You", he began as he pulled her legs to straddle him in the chair, "are you playing a _very_ ", his hand gripped her ponytail and yanked her head backwards until her gaze was on the ceiling. " _Dangerous_ game, Granger", he growled as he licked a long strip from her collarbone to her jaw.

Eyes still on the ceiling, Hermione summoned her courage, "You clearly don't know me if you think that'll scare me off".

Draco chuckled darkly in her ear sending a chill up her spine. "Let's play then. Ever heard of a game called Knight Bus?" His grip in her hair loosened and she lowered her head to meet his gaze, giving him a puzzled look.

"Then I'll gladly give you your first time at it", he winked, his eyes dark on hers. Hermione gulped heavily. Draco reached up behind her and took the clip from her ponytail, letting her hair free.

"How do you play?", she asked nervously.

"You'll have to find out", he smirked, "just tell me when to stop." Without warning, he pushed her out of his lap and rose from the chair.

Hermione was utterly lost at this point but gasped loudly when he grabbed the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down her legs. Her face turned bright red when she realized she hadn't bothered to put on underwear, hadn't even thought of it. Sure, he had touched her there, but he hadn't _looked_. That was something different altogether entirely.

"Holy fucking Salazar, Granger", he growled, his pupils blowing wide at the sight of her. She reached her hands down to cover herself but he swatted them away. He looked up at her seductively before asking, "Did you plan this?"

Her throat practically fell into her stomach. _Fuck._ "N-no I...I s-swear I didn't-",Draco cut her off.

"I don't care, Granger. You just surprise me everyday", he said in what seemed to be a truly honest moment. Suddenly, Draco reached his hands between her legs to hoist her onto his shoulders and stood - his lips right at her core. _Oh my-_

She grabbed at his hair wildly, afraid to fall, and completely mortified by whatever he was trying to do. He walked until her back was against the wall so she was steady, the heat of his breath hitting her in the most sensitive places. Hermione was sure she had to be dripping onto him from her desire.

Draco reached a hand up to grab one of Hermione's, which was still gripped in his hair, and threaded his fingers through hers. "Do you trust me?", he whispered, his words tickling against her there. She swallowed hard before nodding.

With his left hand still intertwined with hers, Draco pressed his right hand at the bottom of her stomach and ran his tongue lightly up her slit. Her legs wobbled but he steadied her quickly on his shoulders.

"Is this for me?", he growled into her. _Fuck yes, so do something about it._

Her eyes were screwed shut but she glanced down and met his eyes when she realized he was waiting for her response. She nodded rapidly. "That's not good enough, tell me who it's for", he demanded.

"It's for you", she said shakily, feeling absolutely tortured at this point.

"Then I want to hear it. I want to hear everything I do to you. Understand?", he asked her seriously.

Hermione's breathing was growing heavier and heavier. She met his silver eyes once again, the sight of him there still insane to her, and nodded aggressively. He tilted his head and she quickly corrected herself obediently, "I understand."

"Good girl", he rewarded before plunging between her folds. Hermione's head shot back so quickly it hit the wall, but she barely felt it in comparison to his mouth.

The heat of it was so intense as he gently massaged her clit with his tongue, sucking on it occasionally. His tongue dipped down lower and she gasped when it found its way inside her. "Draco...", she moaned.

"That's right, Granger", he said before repeating the action. She gasped this time, still not used to the feel of someone being there - their _mouth_ being there specifically. It felt insanely good, but it went on for quite a few minutes and she began to feel insecure. "You know what I need you to do?", he asked her, glancing up as he continued to shower her with affection in her most sensitive place.

"I...I don't know if I can...", she struggled to get out.

"No. I don't care if it takes all day. I'm not done until you come for me. Understand?", he said. Her body felt reawakened all over again from his words.

"Yes", she responded on another gasp. The hand on her stomach began to wander higher, finding her breast and twisting her nipple as he sucked on her clit. "Oh God Draco I-", she moaned loudly.

He didn't slow or speed up, he just kept at that some torturous pace that was bringing her so high she thought she might levitate. It was _perfect_.

When Hermione thought she might burst, her eyes screwed shut and she called out his name repeatedly, profanities finding themselves in between. She twitched wildly, feeling her walls pulse and squeezing Draco's hand so hard she was sure it must be hurting him.

When she finally came down, he lowered her to her feet gently and hugged her just as he had the first time - pulling her tightly into his muscular arms, stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Hermione Granger, do you have any idea how magnificent you are?", he whispered in her ear. She felt...amazing. Cared for? She wasn't sure what this was, but she wanted it forever. It was more than orgasms and skin on skin with Draco, she knew that for certain. But it was so complex.

He pulled back slowly and cradled her face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her softly. She smiled against his lips softly, causing him to pull back. "What?"

She grinned cheekily before looking up at him through her lashes, "You called me Hermione."

Awareness crossed his face and he laughed, flashing that dimple again. "I suppose I did", he responded, leaning in to kiss her again. She could taste herself on his lips, but she didn't mind, and he didn't seem to either. It just tasted natural, and he made her feel like there was no shame in it.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, drawing him closer and deepening the kiss until she pulled back to whisper against his lips, "I never said to stop".

His eyes darkened again and it was like she could see the wheels turning in his head. "As you wish", he said raspily before placing his hands on her hips and walking them towards the desk. He turned for a moment to swipe the entire contents of his desk to the ground harshly, but not before something caught her eye.

She scrambled to the ground, heart racing, desperately trying to find that morning's Daily Prophet among the contents laying on the floor.

Seated on her knees, she finally found it, gripping its edges harshly, and her eyes went straight to the picture on the front. An image of Draco smiling, looking absolutely evil. Blood coated his clothes and was splattered over his light hair and pale face, contrasting deeply with his eyes. And in the back of the photo, dead bodies. At least ten of them.

Hermione felt nauseous. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the photo, she was absolutely horrified by what she saw. The paper was from today, but the image was from the day before. Her eyes finally crossed the headline:

**Blood-Traitor, Ronald Weasley, Publicly Executed By Fore-Minister**

_The Dark Lord announced Draco Malfoy's rise to the role of Fore-Minister, who will solely be taking on all executions as a show of hope and retribution for the people!_


	50. Brave. Smart. Survivor.

**Song** : All for us - labrinth

She was frozen on the spot and numb from head to toe. She felt tears trickling down her cheeks but no noise escaped her lips. _Ron._

The room seemed to be spinning around her. Even after Draco ripped the newspaper from her hands, Hermione was still shaking. Her fingers trembled softly, her eyes still focused in that same direction.

She felt a cold hand on her shoulder and she yanked away from his grip and out of her trance. "Hermione-", Draco tried but she cut him off.

"Don't", she responded simply, voice stern, as she continued to kneel on the study floor.

"Hermione listen to-", he tried once more but that was when Hermione snapped.

"DON'T. Don't you EVER call me Hermione again. Don't ever SPEAK to me again. How could you?", she cried hysterically at him. Draco didn't move a muscle, didn't respond. His expression was unreadable.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and shoved him as hard as she could, causing him to stumble back a few steps, his fists clenching and a look of anger growing in his eyes. Her face turned red when she remembered what had just been happening, and that she wasn't wearing pants. She quickly grabbed her leggings from the floor and yanked them up her legs as quickly as she could.

"Are you listening to me? Are you even CAPABLE of that?", she gasped for air, torn between tears, hatred, and despair. Once again Draco was silent. His jaw ticked momentarily, the veins in his arms popping out slightly, but he showed no other acknowledgement for Hermione's words.

Hermione grabbed the paper again and shoved the photo in his face, forcing him to look at the damage he had done. "Do you even see yourself? You...you...you killed him...", she kept repeating these last words over and over as if truly absorbing them for the first time. _You killed him. You killed him. You killed him._

_I thought Ron was dead. He wasn't. But now he is. I am alone._

She was appalled that she had let her guard down this way, forgetting herself in the home of Death Eaters. Just because they ate, breathed, and slept like normal people didn't mean they were _good_ , or even _decent_.

Hermione had been staring out into space, deep in thought, but she slowly raised her gaze to meet Draco's. Cold as ice, grey as steel, and full to the brim with apathy. He slightly tilted his chin downwards to give the final confirmation that it was true.

"I suppose the same tender touch can just as easily turn vicious and take lives. I just never...", she hesitated, swallowing heavily as fear replaced mourning and agony.

"Who even are you...?", she whispered now, bumps covering her skin as time seemed to freeze for a moment. The only sound was their disjointed breathing - each for very different reasons. She was absolutely afraid of him now, knowing what he was capable of.

Automatically, Hermione's feet began to move backwards towards the door. When he took one step towards her, she turned and sprinted to her room as quickly as she could, slamming and locking the door behind her. She knew if he truly wanted to get in, he could, but considering she didn't have a wand, it was the best she could do. It gave her peace of mind at the least.

It was at that moment that her body gave out, taking the load of all her emotions. She collapsed to the floor, wailing loudly and hyperventilating. Ron had been alive, and he was all she had left. He had been alive this entire time, and she had no idea. Had he been searching for her? Did he know she was alive and where she was? _Is that how he got caught?_

Her stomach lurched and she sprinted to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet just in time to empty her stomach painfully. Acid burned her throat and tears continued to sting her eyes for what felt like days.

She didn't move. Couldn't. The sun rose and set. She remained there. The floor had been cold at first, but she grew used to it. She stared at the ceiling, eyes becoming dry once she was sure she had cried out any spare water her body could offer. She was dizzy and dehydrated.

She wished she'd just die, and was disappointed when she woke up in her bed.

Her skin was pale and her head spun painfully. There were a few potions she recognized on her bedside table - a hydration elixir, nutrition restorative, and a sleeping draught. Hermione was in a set of pajamas, which she was certain she hadn't put on herself. She didn't have the strength or the motivation to. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, only a sliver of light peeking through.

Hermione almost fell out of bed when she noticed a shadow standing in the corner move slightly. Her hand flew to her chest as she caught her breath, seeing the light catch on his white blonde hair. _Draco_. She was relieved until she remembered. She opened her mouth but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Don't speak yet, I need you to listen to me", Draco said calmly, still moving towards her, making her pulse race.

He stood at the end of her bed, pausing, "Don't be afraid of me", he begged before taking a few cautious steps closer. His voice sounded...vulnerable. Broken almost.

Her eyes were stuck on his dark figure as he moved to her side. She pulled the sheets higher up, feeling uncomfortable and unsure rather than afraid now.

"That wasn't...it wasn't Weaselbee alright?", he said while looking deeply into her eyes.

Hermione's pupils blew wide, her heart filling with hope, but she didn't trust him anymore. _Why would he lie? Maybe so I don't try to kill myself_ \- she chuckled, knowing it wasn't fitting for the situation, but still not believing his words.

"You have no reason to believe me, I know, but it's true", Draco said, pausing for her response and quickly adding, "you can speak now".

Hermione rolled her eyes, _as if I need permission._ "Even _if_ you're telling the truth and that _wasn't_ Ron, he still might be dead. I thought he was before anyway", she said in a dry, uninterested voice. She didn't have any emotion left in her, not really. She was drained.

Draco's jaw tensed slightly and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What do you know, Draco?", she said in a calm but demanding voice.

"He's alive", Draco said tensely.

"How do you know?", Hermione asked him, still unsure.

"I can't tell you that", he said, turning away from her. _For fucks sake._

Hermione grabbed his hand before he could step away, feeling that same familiar electricity jolt through her body. She felt sickened that even after everything she knew about Draco, he still affected her this way.

"I'm telling you the truth - _Hermione please -_ I have no reason to lie", she flinched at his words but didn't comment on it. Her name sounded so foreign coming from his lips.

"Why did you let me believe you did kill him then?", she pushed further.

"Why were you so quick to assume I really did? You and I both know Skeeter's words are as worthwhile as a metal wand", he responded in a disappointed tone.

Neither moved or spoke. It was an impasse, but their hands remained together, almost forgotten entirely. As if it was completely natural.

Hermione hesitated another moment before breaking the silence, "But...you really did", she gulped, " _kill_ all those people?"

Draco's eyes looked sorrowful, but not regretful, and it made Hermione uneasy.

"No one's hands can stay clean when you work for the devil", he said darkly before turning and leaving Hermione alone in the room.

~~~

Time passed quickly leading up to Halloween. Once Hermione had fully recovered - which didn't take long thanks to magical solutions for muggle problems - she went back to 'training' and having dinner every night with the Malfoy men.

The entire affair was extremely uncomfortable after what had happened. Hermione was short for time, and though she wasn't afraid of Draco - just as he requested - she was still afraid of Voldemort and always would be. So she got to work.

She didn't feel comfortable with going back to her previous strategy for the time-being. Instead, she resorted to snooping around the library throughout the day and slipping into Draco's office if he was ever away from the manor, which was more frequent these days.

They didn't interact until dinner each night, they barely spoke if at all, and never made eye contact or touched. Before she knew it, it was October 31st and she was no closer to finding any answers than she had been before.

Hermione could hear the noise from outside her room as the elves prepared the Manor for tonight's ball. She was too anxious to leave her room at all, and played the record player in hopes of easing it. All she could do was count down the hours until it was 9pm.

At 6pm, a knock came at her door. She didn't move, but Draco came in, taking her silence as approval to enter.

She was standing at her window, looking out across the backyard, and barely turned over her shoulder to glance in his direction.

"You haven't showered today have you?", he asked uncomfortably. _Ummm..._

"No...why are you asking?", she responded, turning to face him fully.

"No one can know we allow you that privilege", he responded as if it was quite obvious. She scoffed at this. _Of course. What a privilege it is to shower._

Draco continued, "In fact, the messier you can appear, the better." He pulled his wand out and proceeded to cast multiple glamour charms on Hermione.

She walked to stand in front of the mirror, gasping at her appearance. Her clothes hung off of her, she was a good 20 pounds lighter and appeared well underfed. Hermione's cheekbones sunk in and there were now large, dark circles under her eyes. There were even a few bruises and cuts across her skin.

"Now", he paused, "you're really not going to like this part." Draco looked nervous, and it made Hermione unbearably anxious for what was to come.

Draco waved his wand and a pair of clothes appeared on her bed. She examined the clothes, allowing her eyes to focus and recognition to come before she stumbled back in shock, a sharp cry escaping her. _They were Harry's._

The clothes from the Battle of Hogwarts. The clothes her best friend _died_ in. They were still coated in dried blood which Hermione had no doubt belonged to Harry. She felt lightheaded, but Draco caught her as her feet gave out, just before she could hit the floor.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her up and comforting her trembling frame. "Hermione...", Draco hesitated, "I know this is hard. I know. But you can do this."

Hermione could barely register what he was saying, she was in shock. _How can they expect me to wear that? The fact that they even kept it? These people are sadistic. Oh God Harry. Oh God. Oh God._

Silent sobs came from her quivering chest. Draco gently took her face in one hand, lifting her chin to look into his pale blue eyes. "The Dark Lord's request. He had them. But listen to me, you're brave Hermione. You're incredibly smart. You are a _survivor_. You can make it through one night. You _will._ I know you can."

Hermione's tears slowed and she sniffled softly, nodding at Draco's words. She needed this affection and comfort far too much to reject it. She couldn't get it anywhere else, and it helped much more than she expected it to.

"I know you can", he whispered softly into her ear again as he pulled her into his arms. "Trust me, Hermione", he said. So she did.

He left her alone to get dressed. She stared at the clothes for two hours before putting them on. They wreaked of dried blood, which made her nauseous, and even then -

They still smelled like Harry.


	51. Without hesitation

**Song** : Exit Music (for a film) - Ramon Djawadi

At exactly 8:30pm, Draco knocked lightly on Hermione's door. She opened it slowly and stepped out to meet him. She felt disgusting. Broken. Sick. This feeling was worsened by Draco's clean, all-black suit - not a single blonde hair on his head out of place.

Hermione - she was dressed as the boy who died. The main event. Tonight's entertainment. A cruel and sickening joke. She looked starved and beaten, just as she was meant to.

"Do you trust me", he asked her, a serious look in his eyes. She hesitated but ultimately said yes - she did.

Hermione followed him through the hallway and down the main stairs of the manor, careful to keep a few steps behind. Her heart was racing at the sound of voices and conversation going on downstairs. When she turned the corner, there were people pouring excitedly into the manor.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was an annoyingly familiar squeal which Hermione quickly placed. Pansy practically jumped into Draco's arms, placing a kiss on his cheek, and ignored Hermione altogether.

Hermione couldn't help but think of how Draco had now kissed her more than once - had done much more than that actually...

Her cheeks burned red but she stared at the floor, doing her best to ignore everything and everyone there.

Draco and Pansy joined hands and began walking towards the room where the party was starting. Hermione remained a few steps behind, but not so far that she might bump into a Death Eater or other undesirable entity. She kept her eyes to the floor the entire way, just as she had practiced.

She tried to hide the awe she felt when the room came into view. It was beautiful. The massive room housed a long table at the opposite end, some Death Eaters already seated there. A few smaller round tables were scattered throughout the room for what Hermione assumed were non-Death Eater attendees.

The ceiling had been enchanted, showing the night sky full of stars, similar to the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but not nearly as brilliant. Her heart ached at the realization that it no longer existed.

There were five chandeliers that appeared to hang out of thin air, soft yellow light emitting from each of them.

Voices bounced loudly off the walls of the large room, but they quickly quieted when Draco and Pansy entered with Hermione in tow. Despite her standing behind them - hiding really - all eyes were on her. Hurried whispers filled the room and she began to feel nauseous.

She had no choice but to follow when the pair in front of her continued to move across the room in the painful silence. After what felt like an hour of walking in silence, they finally reached the table. Voldemort greeted Draco but ignored Pansy completely. Hermione would have laughed at this if she wasn't so scared. Her thoughts were too occupied.

"Draco, isn't it so nice for us all to be together, as it should be?", Voldemort asked the blonde boy.

"Yes my Lord, I'm honored you would allow me to host it - it's been too long since this hall has been utilized", Draco responded confidently, yet his voice lacked enthusiasm.

Voldemort let out a raspy laugh before responding, "Well I suppose that's all at the fault of your late mother." The entire hall erupted into laughter. It felt terribly wrong. It _was_ terribly wrong.

Draco showed zero emotion for Voldemort's statement, but nodded and said, "I suppose it is." _Surely he doesn't mean that._ Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Lucius was in attendance. She felt terrible for the eldest Malfoy who seemed to take his wife's death harder than anyone else.

Voldemort slowly stood, silencing the hall with a single wave of his hand, "Now, I believe we have a special guest for the evening." Draco and Pansy automatically stepped aside so that Hermione was left directly facing Voldemort. She kept her eyes to the floor, but could feel everyone else's eyes on her. Her entire body felt cold.

"Does anyone recognize our dear Mudblood's costume? It has quite the backstory", he stated, and the entire hall laughed once again, but this one hurt her much more. Hermione remained stone still, her eyes on the floor.

"Look at me", Voldemort suddenly boomed. Hermione slowly raised her head fearfully until they met his revolting, red eyes. He looked as undead as ever. Pale as a ghost, two slits for a nose, and held the Elder Wand protectively in one hand.

Hermione jolted from her thoughts abruptly when the wizard began to laugh hysterically. "How ironic that the best friend of Harry Potter himself, and sole survivor, is here dressed as the boy who died, a Happy Halloween indeed", he stated.

She let the words wash over her and refused to show any emotion, no matter how hard she fought not to.

"Let the feast commence!", Voldemort announced, taking his seat as everyone made their way to their seats as well. Food magically appeared on the table along with glasses of champagne and wine. Hermione hated how much it all seemed to remind her of school - if Hogwarts had been run by a masochist.

Hermione followed Draco and Pansy again until he took his assigned seat to the right Voldemort. Unsure of what to do and still reeling from Voldemort humiliating her, she stood a few feet behind Draco's chair, hoping to be forgotten about all together.

She took advantage of this moment, as everyone was distracted and shoveling food into their mouths. Hermione looked around at the Death Eaters sitting at the table. Pansy was to the right of Draco, Daphne Greengrass sat across from her, with her date Blaise Zabini seated across from Draco. They all chatted while Voldemort sat observing the room but not touching the food. He simply drank from a goblet and seemed to analyze everyone.

Hermione continued to discreetly study the table, recognizing Gregory Goyle, his father, Vincent Crabbe's father, and finally, Lucius. Her heart sank. He sat across from the eldest Crabbe silently, sipping his wine, and seeming to forgo his dinner altogether. He looked simply uninterested.

Her attention was redirected when she heard Voldemort speak to Draco, the familiar hiss in his words. "Have you enjoyed having the Mudblood serve you?"

She listened closely to Draco's response, "Yes my Lord, it's been very helpful as I've been quite busy between my Minister duties and the executions." She gulped at how calmly he said this. It made her sick.

"Excellent, any special talents?", Voldemort queried. _Special talents? What is that supposed to mean?_

"She's good with her hands", Draco responded with a chuckle. Hermione's stomach practically fell to her feet. _What?_

Voldemort grinned evilly, "Is that so? Shall we put it to the test?"

The room began to quiet down gradually as others began to eavesdrop on the conversation between Voldemort and Draco. "As you wish my Lord", Draco responded. "Mudblood", he called, barely glancing over his shoulder at Hermione. She shuddered in fear, having no clue what was about to be asked of her, and in front of all these people as well. She slowly stepped closer to the back of his chair, hearing her own heavy breathing in her ears.

"I believe Draco could use some help with his dinner, make yourself of use and feed him", Voldemort commanded. _This is humiliating, but we expected this. He's pretending, right? I have to do it, but I'll be fine. I won't get hurt._

She stepped to the right side of Draco's chair, between him and Pansy. With shaking hands, she leaned down to pick up the fork. Hermione couldn't help but notice Pansy eyeing her with an unreadable expression. She almost dropped the fork when she heard Draco's voice. It was barely audible and she was certain no one else could hear it. "Stop shaking", he said, and she did. Her heart rate seemed to slow slightly. _Trust him_ , she repeated over and over in her mind. With a steady hand, she reached up, bringing the fork to his lips as he took the food into his mouth.

"Good hands indeed, now the steak", Voldemort said. She hesitated for a moment, disappointed that she wasn't going to be left alone just yet. It was long enough that Voldemort noticed, and she saw it in his face.

"How often do you punish the Mudblood?", Voldemort asked Draco. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"As often as needed", Draco responded as if it were perfectly true.

"I believe it may be needed considering her _blatant_ hesitation", Voldemort stated.

"Crucio her!", someone from across the room shouted suddenly, the room becoming excited to see Hermione be punished.

"A broken bone or two will teach her", another voice yelled.

"Stab her!" One of the Death Eaters shouted from down the table.

"In the hand", another Death Eater snickered.

"Make her do it to herself!", another added with a loud laugh.

"Now I like that one", Voldemort stated. The room was suddenly silent, an odd contrast with the laughter that had filled it.

"You heard the Dark Lord", Draco said, not even looking at her. _Are you serious?_

She stared at him in shock, fear openly displayed on her face for the entire room to see, her blood running cold. _Surely he doesn't expect me to - how could I possibly?_

"Do it", Draco commanded in a stern voice.

Without hesitation, Hermione picked up the fork with her right hand, and drove it into the palm of her left hand as hard as she could, pinning it to the table. She cried out in pain, shocked and confused at her own actions, and the room filled with cheer, laughter, and clapping.

The room began to spin and blood was pooling from her hand. _Why did I - Oh God I'm - I'm going to pass out I-_


	52. Sorry

**Song** : when the party's over - Billie Eilish

Blood flowed freely from the 4 holes in Hermione's hand, coating the prongs of the fork, her hand still pinned to the table.

She glanced at Draco in shock and confusion. _He had to make me, he had to pretend to be on Voldemort's side, right?_ But something didn't feel right. She could feel her pulse running intensely through her left arm, yet she still didn't shake. Draco portrayed no emotion, simply stared straight-forward silently as the room continued to fill with sounds of entertainment.

Everything was too loud in Hermione's ears, and it seemed to go on this way for several minutes. Finally Voldemort rose from his chair and halted the laughter. Everyone's eyes turned to the wizard, now suddenly acting as if Hermione was not standing there with a fork in her hand.

"Now that we are in our rightful place of power in the world, the continuation of Pureblood lines is vital", Voldemort's voice echoed in the massive room. No once moved or made a sound. He waved Hermione away - _what the fuck am I supposed to-?_

Suddenly the pain that had slightly numbed in her shock was reawakened when Draco yanked the metal out of her hand. She cried out again in pain, gripping the wound and slowly stepping backwards to her previous station. All she wanted was to disappear into the heavy curtains behind her.

"I believe it is time the next generation move forward in their adult lives", Voldemort paused and gestured to his right, "starting with the union of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson."

The room erupted into applause, many even rising to their feet. Neither Draco or Pansy seemed surprised in the slightest, rising from their chairs as well and joining hands. Pansy placed a kiss on Draco's cheek, darting her eyes to Daphne briefly before looking down.

Voldemort disappeared the tables, leaving the room spacious enough for dancing and signaling that the meal was over. He clapped his hands and music began to play as the crowd made their way towards the center of the room, socializing and dancing in celebration.

Hermione barely registered when Bopsy appeared a few feet in front of her next to Draco - he whispered something in the elf's ear. But everything was becoming hazy in Hermione's senses as she was unable to cope in that moment with the trauma of what had just happened. The next time she blinked she found herself hand in hand with Bopsy and in a room she only vaguely recognized.

The elf guided her until she sat in a chair - it felt warmer here, and brighter. She felt the elf fiddling with her left hand but everything was numb and out of focus. Gauze were wrapped tightly around her wound and just like that, Bopsy was gone.

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them to hug herself. She leaned her head backwards onto the chair, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the door open and close from behind her. Large, lean arms scooped her up delicately and carried her to a bathroom. She was carefully set on her feet, but she held onto the arms for balance.

Hermione's clothes were slowly removed, the tangles brushed out of her hair. She didn't flinch or protest. She trusted. She was guided to the shower, sitting on the floor without a word.

The blonde began to remove his shoes, socks, and jacket, rolling his sleeves up before joining her in the shower. He began to wash the dirt and blood from her skin, red and brown mixing and swirling down the drain. Her vision blurred with silent tears as the sound of the shower water hitting the floor filled her ears.

After a while, she was lifted from her seated position and dried off. A dark green, oversized shirt was pulled over her head, a pair of boxers pulled up her legs. Once again, she was scooped up, but this time Hermione was laid down on a large, soft bed. The boy pulled the sheets up over her and brushed the wet hair out of her face.

Hermione closed her eyes, too exhausted to think or feel, and quickly feel asleep. The last thing she saw was Draco putting the fireplace out, allowing darkness to fill the room. He climbed in behind her, softly drawing her back against his torso and holding her possessively. She couldn't even process the words that drifted to her ears gently.

_I'm so sorry Hermione. Please be okay. I'm so sorry, please be okay. I... I love....please. So sorry._

~~~

Draco forced a smile at the Dark Lord's unexpected words as he took Pansy's hand and the room cheered. _Marriage? Continuation of pureblood lines?_

He fought the urge to glance at Daphne and Blaise, but he felt their eyes which were likely full of concern. _Fuck. This is not the time for this. Hermione is....fuck. This is all my fault. FUCK._

Pansy softly kissed his cheek and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. He wished he could say something to comfort her, but there was nothing.

Once the Dark Lord disappeared the tables and everyone redirected their attention, Draco called for Bopsy quietly. She appeared next to him immediately.

"Take Hermione upstairs to my room. Clean up her hand and bandage it. I'll be up there as soon as I can.", he told the elf. Bopsy nodded at him, squeezing his hand before turning around and walking to where Hermione stood behind him. Bopsy practically raised him along with his mother, and she could see right through his poker face. She knew how Draco was feeling - could read the panic behind his instructions.

He spent the next two hours wishing he could make time go quicker. He walked around with Pansy on his arm, assuring everyone that it would be the most lovely wedding, and a Malfoy heir would be not far behind. He didn't mean any of this, but he promised it nonetheless.

Voldemort disappeared after dinner, leaving the manor altogether. He made his speech, showcased what he had in his back pocket, and that was all he was there for. Eventually, guests began to leave and Draco wanted nothing more than to sprint to his room and hold Hermione. Never let her go.

His father walked up next to him as Draco waved goodbye to the departing guests. "Congratulations", Lucius said dryly to him, a false smirk plastered on his face.

"On what?", Draco asked him, not even turning to look his way.

"The wedding of course, and future _Malfoy heir_. I'd say I'm proud, but you'd have to be marrying someone _worthy_ for that", he remarked.

"And who the fuck is _worthy_ if not Pansy?", Draco muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"You know exactly who", his father responded simply. _Surely he doesn't mean..._

"I'm afraid I _don't_ ", Draco said sharply to Lucius, turning to face him now even though his father couldn't see him.

"Right. In a different world, different life, different _outcome_ \- maybe it would have worked, but it never would have happened in that case", he said calmly.

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about Father?", Draco defended. He knew exactly what he meant. But surely he wasn't condoning his feelings? Not the man who cared more about pureblood lines than anything in the world.

"Aside from the Dark Lord, you have more power than anyone else in the Wizarding World right now. Yet, you severely lack the _bollocks_ to do a single bloody thing with it. Your Mother and I raised you better than this.", Lucius told him in frustration.

" _You_ raised me with prejudice and hatred, and now we live in a world you worked so hard to create. Mother didn't. So explain to me how it is you _raised me better_ than how I'm acting? I've achieved the highest possible status under the Dark Lord's reign, and you still aren't happy?", Draco spoke much louder now that all the guests had departed.

"I've made mistakes and I'm admitting that. I'll admit it a million times. I don't want the same for you, which is why I'm telling you this. My prejudices and hatred are now reserved for _one_ person in this world - if he can be considered a person at all. I cared about two things in this world - Narcissa and you. Now, I only have you. It may have taken her death for me to finally _see clearly_ , but your mother has no fault in any of this. I'm trying to do right by her.", Lucius defended viciously. Tears of frustration pooled in his blind, pale eyes, but his voice didn't waver.

"And doing right by her is what? Telling me to throw caution to the wind and go after a Mudblood? Genius - I'm sure this will be great for everyone involved.", Draco said sarcastically. He was furious now. He didn't even recognize his father anymore, and this was the most they had talked in years.

"I'm simply telling you to grow a pair and take advantage of the power you have. Regretting something you _didn't_ do is worse than regretting something you _did_ do", Lucius stated before leaving Draco standing there alone.

Draco clenched and unclenched his fists angrily before sprinting upstairs as quickly as he could, trying to shake off his father's words.

He opened the door to find Hermione in a chair by the fireplace, hugging her legs, and looking completely out of it.

Draco was instantly by her side, scooping her up and cleaning her off in his shower. She was so beautiful, but so broken in that moment. So broken that Draco felt an ache in his chest that he had only ever felt once before - when his mother died right in front of him.

When he undressed and bathed her, there was nothing sexual about it. He didn't want to hurt her, but it was too late for that. Blood had soaked through the bandages on her left hand. Hermione quietly cried as he cleaned her up, but she didn't seem to even notice it herself. Didn't even seem to notice him.

Draco couldn't help it when tears filled his own eyes. He felt so weak, so cowardly. _She deserves so much better...I could never be what she needs..._

He dressed her in his own clothes, hoping to make her as comfortable as possible but knowing comfort didn't exist in this situation. For either of them.

Draco laid her softly in his bed, pulling the covers over her, and put the fireplace out. He crawled into bed behind her after removing his drenched suit from the shower. He gently wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his front. She was so cold, but she didn't shake. _Because of me. Because I told her not to._ He felt sick.

Tears continued to spill softly down his cheeks, his bottom lip quivering. He couldn't help the words he muttered to her, knowing nothing could fix this but wishing his words could heal her physically and emotionally all the same.

"I'm so sorry Hermione. Please be okay." He kissed her shoulder softly. "I'm so sorry, please be okay." Draco buried his face in her wet curls. " _I...I love you..."_ He cried harder into her. He silently regretted saying those last words aloud, and hoped to Merlin that she hadn't heard them. Hoped she was asleep and wouldn't know they ever escaped his lips, but that didn't change the fact that he meant them.

This whispered confession took everything out of him, as if the floodgates had opened. He couldn't understand how it happened. He couldn't understand how he went from bullying the curly-haired witch in front of him in school, to now holding her after he forced her to stab herself.

He didn't want to marry Pansy. He didn't want to marry or have an heir at all. He wanted to run away with Hermione and protect her from the world after he failed so horribly to do so tonight.

Draco silently wished that things were different. He wished that he fell in love with her in a world where he wasn't a Death Eater. In a world where he wasn't an executioner and didn't _enjoy killing_. In a world where Harry Potter didn't lose and the Dark Lord was dead. In a world where she might say to him _"I love you too."_


	53. Lonely

**Song** : Falling - Harry Styles

When Hermione woke up on November 1st, she didn't even open her eyes. There was an overwhelming pain in her left hand, yet a comforting warmth wrapped around her. She breathed peacefully, not yet fully conscious.

Her mind began to replay last night's events as if she was seeing them for the first time.

_I trusted him. I stopped shaking. I stabbed myself..._

She trusted him, _because he told me to._ She stopped shaking, _when he told me to._ She stabbed herself in the hand with a fork in front of Voldemort and his Death Eater minions, _because he told me to?_

Hermione's head was spinning and her body went rigid. _Why did I...? Surely not..._

Why was she doing things simply because he told her to? Was she truly that weak-willed? No, she couldn't be. Hermione was better than that. Unless...

Her eyes shot open and she took in her surroundings. Dark curtains. A fireplace. A black, wooden, four-poster bed. Pale arms wrapped around her center. A green t-shirt and a pair of boxers. White gauze. Damp hair. Forest green bedding. The scent of teakwood and mint. A flash of blonde hair. Her breathing stopped.

Draco was behind her. Draco was _spooning_ her. She was in _Draco's bed_.

Hermione shot up and out of Draco's arms, practically jumping out of the bed when a set of long, cold, ring-wearing fingers wrapped around her wrist. She froze, slowly turning her head over her shoulder.

She was already halfway out of the bed but his ice-blue eyes were trained on her unwaveringly. She yanked out of his grasp and sprinted to his bathroom before dry heaving over the toilet, her eyes watering furiously.

Hermione's head was pounding and she could barely think straight. Her unleashed memories from the previous night wreaked havoc on her body like a car wreck.

She felt a delicate hand on her back and a deep, smooth voice in her ear, "are you okay, Hermione?", it hesitantly asked her.

Hermione jerked towards the wall in the opposite direction. She sat on the floor, back pressed against the bathroom wall. "Don't _fucking_ touch me!", she shouted at Draco, a look of disgust on her face.

"Hermione I-", he began but she refused to hear it.

"No! Why did I stab myself last night? Why Draco? Tell me", she demanded.

His eyes softened before he whispered, "because I told you to".

"Because you told me to", Hermione repeated, thinking it over. "Because you _told_ me to", she said again, her voice growing angry with betrayal.

They stared at each other in silence, she could hear rain padding on the roof. She was cold, bumps covering her bare legs in what she found it safe to assume were _his_ clothes. She hated how comfortable they were. She hated that she trusted him _still_ because he _told her to._

 _I trust him_ \- she thought to herself. "No!", she shouted out loud. _I trust him_ \- her inner voice repeated again. "NO!", she shouted even louder this time, covering her ears.

"Hermione, please calm-", Draco began reaching for her but stopped himself when tears formed in her amber eyes. The hurt was evident in them.

Hermione's right hand mindlessly went to her left arm for a sense of comfort, as it had for months now. She felt the warmth emanating from the dragon there. She looked down at it, and suddenly everything clicked. The dragon. The dragon that Draco put there. The spell. She didn't have free will, hadn't for a long time, and that was why.

She slowly looked up at him, searching his eyes for truth. "How could you...how could you do this to me?", she asked him in barely a whisper.

He looked at her with a sadness she had never seen before. "Hermione...", he whispered to her desperately, tears forming in his own eyes.

Hermione looked away from him quickly, her bottom lip trembling. She _still_ trusted him. She didn't have any choice to, despite how deceived she felt.

Draco slowly reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand and gently turning her face back to his. "Please look at me Hermione, _please_ ", he begged, his voice cracking.

She slowly met his eyes but then closed them. It was all too much, she couldn't bear it. If she looked at him, her chest grew warm in a way she was unfamiliar with, and it was wrong. She was convinced it was wrong. Her body was betraying her mind.

"I...my mind is telling me to trust you but...I don't have a choice regardless", she whispered, placing her injured hand over his on her face. She gently pulled it away from her cheek, standing slowly before leaving him there alone.

Draco didn't move. He felt like the air had been stolen from his lungs. His hands trembled. She was so close, but so far. He burned her, and she learned her lesson. She was smart that way, but he couldn't leave her alone. He needed her in an unfathomable way.

He felt more intense regret than ever before in his life. Maybe his father was right, you regret the things you don't do more than the ones you do. Like telling the truth. _I didn't tell her the truth, and it's my fault. I did this to her. I did this to myself._

Draco thought he had been alone before, but now he truly was, and he knew that. The fact that he loved her didn't mean a thing. He confessed it repeatedly as she slept, but he was convinced she didn't love him back. She couldn't. Maybe she couldn't.

Even if she did love him, he wouldn't accept it because... _I don't deserve it._


	54. It is

**Song** : Dancing With Your Ghost - Sasha Sloan

Only a few moments had passed when Draco shot up and raced after her. He slung his bedroom door open right as Hermione reached for the door handle of her room. "Hermione, stop!", he said, reaching out towards her.

She froze on the spot, turning slowly to glance at him over her shoulder. "Pansy is in there", he elaborated. He had completely forgotten that Pansy stayed the night. It would have looked questionable to the public - and the Dark Lord - otherwise.

Hermione slowly turned her entire body towards him, removing her hand from the doorknob. "Why is Pansy in there?", she asked with a confused and cold expression, her eyes still on the floor.

"It's her room...when she stays here", he told her hesitantly.

"Oh right. Your _fiance_.", she huffed, her frustration visibly growing.

Draco clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together. "Please, come back to my room and let me explain", he begged her as he took a bold step forward. She took one step back nervously. "Hermione _please_ , I won't make you. I promise", he whispered desperately.

She had nowhere else to go. She knew that. Her mind said it was a bad idea, but her feet moved anyway, barely shuffling across the floor. _All I want is answers..._

She finally met his eyes, feeling that familiar string at her navel, tugging her towards him. Her chest warmed and she nodded. Their shoulders brushed against each other as she passed him in the doorway, electricity shooting through both of them as usual. Draco softly closed the door behind him.

Hermione stood there with her arms crossed, still unsure and hesitant. "Please sit", Draco said, gesturing towards the chairs in front of his fireplace. It wasn't lost on Hermione that he took special care not to _command_ her to do this. She didn't feel he deserved any appreciation, but she had it for him nonetheless.

She walked across the room, taking one of the seats in front of the fireplace and deliberately facing away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself, her right hand landing on the dragon instinctively.

Hermione tried her best not to scowl at Draco when he dragged his chair over next to her. He wasn't too close, but still faced her, giving her his full attention.

Draco sighed deeply before beginning, unsure really where to start. "The mark on your arm - the dragon - it was required by the Dark Lord. Created by Yaxley. From what I've been told, mudbl- I mean...muggle-born servants are required to receive the mark if they serve a Death Eater household. It prevents you from things like leaving the property without permission, requires you to obey commands from the person who gave you the mark..." He paused, watching her expression, but her face betrayed nothing.

"I...I never deliberately commanded you to do something like that until last night, not on purpose at least. And I only did if your own safety", she scoffed at his words and he winced. "If I didn't, the Dark Lord would have become suspicious of our...situation", he finished.

"Our situation...", Hermione echoed him, breaking her silence for the first time since she entered the room. "Did you ever...I guess what I'm...", Hermione struggled to find the words. "Were any of our... _interactions_ ever forced?", she slowly turned to meet his eyes now.

Draco was hurt by her implication. _Does she really think I would do that?_ "Never", he responded without a second thought, and he meant it.

She nodded slowly, looking to the ground as she deliberated. Draco ran his hands through his hair stressfully before adding on to his statement, "I never expected to feel...how I do", he said, purposely forgoing any detail or attachments to his statement.

"And...how do you feel?", she asked, looking into his eyes once more as if she could search for the truth in them.

Draco bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He had never felt so vulnerable. But everything inside of him screamed - _I feel everything for you. You set my insides on fire and I've never felt more alive. I love you. I'd kill for you. I'd die for you. I don't even know who I am without you anymore, and it fucking horrifies me._

Draco leaned over in the chair, elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. Tears started to form in his eyes - he felt humiliated. He didn't want her to see.

Hermione could feel the hurt in him, could sense it, and reached out, placing a hand on his. "Draco", her voice wavered with emotion, "please", she begged.

Draco looked up to find a glossy-eyed Hermione as well. He wrapped both hands around hers, feeling braver now.

"Hermione I...", Draco bit his cheek hard. "Pansy is _with_ Daphne. They're together. I was helping her cover it up from the Dark Lord, and it backfired. She's my best friend, and I was just trying to keep her from getting killed or put in an arranged marriage. I need you to know that before I say what I'm about to say. Understand?", the words flooded from his mouth in a rush.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise - his revelation was a lot to take in. She nodded hesitantly, concerned with what he was going to tell her next. She couldn't help the relief she felt that he wasn't truly with Pansy, but she still felt bad for her. Afraid for her even. _Why am I so relieved? I know why...but that can't be why...it's not real, it's the spell - the mark..._

"I swear to Salazar if you laugh at me - because I'm about to sound absolutely nutters...", Draco started.

"I won't. I promise", Hermione reassured, her heart racing in anticipation now.

"Hermione...my days mean nothing anymore unless you're in my study reading your bloody books and walking around barefoot the way you always do. It's absolutely fucked, and I know that, but I love that mark on your arm simply because it marks you as _mine_. You _are_ mine. Not in some psychotic prisoner way. In a way that I would never let anyone fucking hurt you again. Not like last night. I don't deserve you - _especially_ after last night, and I never could. Not in this life or another, but you're mine nonetheless. Maybe it's the fucking the spell, maybe it's not, but I don't care. You're mine. Even if you left this place and I never saw you again, you'd be the only one for me in this world. I'd reign Hell on anyone that ever threatened you. I'd overthrow the devil himself and take over the position myself if that's what it took. I won't even bother asking for your forgiveness because I know you won't give it, and that's why I love you. Because you're the brightest witch not just of our age - of all time. You're untouchable. You're Heaven and I'm Hell, and no matter how much I try to reach up for you, I know I never will, and that's just how it is. I'm just droning on now because I don't even know what the fuck I'm trying to say. I promised you an explanation and I'm being right git instead", Hermione grabbed his arms, pulling him from the focus of his rant.

Draco stared at her in confusion, noticing the tears in her eyes but a slight smile on her lips. "What?"

"Draco, say that again", she requested with a slight smile.

His face contorted, "are you kidding? You really expect me to repeat that enti-", she interrupted him with a kiss. Tender but powerful and full of heat. After a moment, Hermione pulled back softly, "you said you love me", she whispered to him, her eyes searching his.

Realization spread across Draco's face and his cheeks began to turn red. "Don't", Hermione insisted. "I...I think I do too - love you, I mean", she said shyly, her smile fading as doubt replaced it. "But...how can I know if...if it's real?"

Draco stroked her cheek with a thumb comfortingly. He nodded to her for permission, knowing exactly how they could find out. He was horrified and afraid that it wasn't real, but he had to know. He locked eyes with her, "Tell me if what you feel is real", he commanded her.

Hermione was shocked, but positive her next words were true, "It is".


	55. With you

**Song** : Out Like a Light - The Honeysticks, Ricky Montgomery

"Well Granger, it looks like for the first time in our lives, we have something in common", Draco said with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes that made Hermione blush furiously.

"Back to Granger are we?", Hermione asked him playfully. She suddenly realized how far apart they were, and how close she wanted to be.

"Granger, Hermione, Golden Girl, brightest witch - you're a lot of things, but mine and mine alone is at the top of that list, love", Draco said, his voice deepened seductively.

Hermione couldn't fight the strong pull she felt towards him anymore. Feeling in control for the first time since May, she rose from her chair and moved to straddle Draco's lap. She brought her lips down on his forcefully, possessively, greedily. She may have been his, but he was hers just as much.

Draco returned the kiss passionately, threading his fingers gently through her curls and molding his lips to hers as if memorizing them. Hermione looped her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape and becoming dizzy from bliss.

His hands slid down her sides, finding their way underneath the t-shirt she wore and exploring her skin eagerly. He slipped his tongue into her mouth hesitantly, not wanting to push her too far. He had already made that mistake once, and he wouldn't let it happen again. She greeted it heatedly with her own, quickly finding that she couldn't get close enough to him, and she needed it.

Without meaning to, she pressed herself gently against him and felt him hardening beneath her. Draco grunted in response, pulling her more tightly to him. One hand worked its way back up to her hair and he gripped it tightly near the back of her head, causing her to moan into his mouth.

Hermione pulled back just enough to speak, both of their lips swollen and breathing still short. "More", she pleaded, a mutual fire spreading between them.

Draco's eyes darkened, turning grey and hungry, and he dove back into her mouth. He scooped her up with his hands supporting her ass. He squeezed teasingly as she wrapped her legs around his waist when he stood. He carried her over to the bed, not breaking the kiss the entire way.

He laid her back gently on the bed and barely gave her time to adjust before his hands were searching again. Hermione gasped when cold fingers found her breasts, teasing her nipples furiously until they hardened beneath his touch. Draco used his other hand to grip her thigh, keeping it wrapped around his hips so he could press against her, showing her exactly what she did to him.

The boxers that Hermione wore were drenched already, and she felt all too self-conscious about this. Draco moved his lips to her neck, sucking vigorously until he left love-bites all over the sensitive area, effectively marking her even more as his.

"Draco", Hermione muttered in his ear, her heart was racing and her skin was on fire. He stopped for a moment, pulling back from her neck to meet her eyes with his. "Please", he whispered, "say it again".

"Draco", Hermione mumbled against his lips as he dove in to capture them once again. He smiled against her and she did the same. Butterflies filled her stomach, but something stronger stirred below that, something she hadn't known before now. _Want. Need._ She knew exactly how to fix it, and was determined to do so. No question in her mind.

Their kisses grew heated. Sloppier. More passionate. They both moaned when Hermione pressed her core against him. He could feel how wet she was even through the boxers that both he and she wore.

"Hermione I...", Draco said hesitantly as he pulled back from her lips, inches away from her face. "I don't want to...to go too..."

She pulled him in again, sucking on his bottom lip and releasing it with a loud pop. "I want it. All of it", she told him confidently.

"I want all of you, but not if you aren't sure...I mean...have you ever...", Draco was too unsure, too afraid of pushing her away or putting his own desires ahead of hers.

"It doesn't matter if I have or not. All that matters is I want it, and I want it with _you_ ", she insisted, stroking his cheek softly.

"I don't want to hurt you", Draco said, genuine concern apparent in his face.

"You won't. I promise. I _trust_ you", Hermione insisted.

She wasn't a virgin - but Ron had never known that. Everyone assumed she was since she didn't go that far with him. But the truth was, Cormac McLaggen had taken advantage of her that night at Slughorn's party. She didn't want anyone to know, didn't want to talk about it. She tried to convince herself for a long time that it was her own fault, that she had allowed it. But deep down, she knew it wasn't the truth.

Cormac had taken her virginity without even asking if it was her first time. The thought of it made her cringe, but she had long moved on and recovered. She had already decided once she did it with someone else and under her own consent, she would consider that her "first time". And as far as she was concerned, her first time could be whenever and with whoever she wanted it to be.

So physically, no, she wasn't a virgin. But in her mind, this was her _real_ first time, and she had no doubt she wanted it with him. She didn't want any of that bullshit, half-assed sex. And she knew Draco would be that way if he was afraid of hurting her. She wanted all of him - no holding back.

Draco still looked at her with uncertainty and concern. "Listen to me, Draco", Hermione said, grabbing him roughly by his shirt, "I want to be _fucked_ the way I'd expect Draco Malfoy to fuck me. Do not treat me like a broken object. If I'm yours, then show it to me. _Prove_ it to me", she said, her voice growing heavy.

Draco's eyes blew wide in surprise. He had never heard her speak this way and never imagined he would. The truth was, she had more fire in her than he would ever know, and he learned that more and more each day. Loved it in fact.

"Hermione Granger...", he growled in her ear, "I will claim you in more ways than you can possibly imagine. I promise, you have no idea what to expect from me. Do you understand what you're asking for?"

Hermione nodded heatedly, "I do, and I mean it."

"Need I remind you, I am _insatiable_. And I have no doubt, I could take you for hours and never get enough", he insisted, taking her chin in the palm of his hand now and gripping it tightly.

"Then _take_ me", she dared him.

 **Song** : Love Is a Bitch - Two Feet (not a time jump just a relevant mood change lol)

Instantly, Draco was lifting her shirt away, leaving her chest out in the open. "Fuck", he hissed, "you're going to be the death of me, Hermione", he stated, biting his lip.

He dove in eagerly, latching his lips around one of her nipples, causing her to throw her head back in shock. She moaned loudly as he nibbled her skin, tugging and torturing her before doing the same to the other.

Draco began placing heated kisses along her torso, working his way down until he was at the bottom of her stomach. She looked up at him nervously, just to find his eyes on her as he took the waistband of the boxers she wore between his teeth and tugged them down.

She was naked now, and all too aware of it. Hermione squeezed her legs together nervously but he grabbed her knees and spread her wide, forcing her legs up and back so she was completely open to him. "Don't _ever_ \- I want to see all of you, understand?", he asked. Hermione nodded quickly, her heart ready to beat out of her chest.

"Good girl", Draco said before dragging his tongue along her core with no warning and immediately pulling back to watch her reaction.

Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly and moaned. Draco chuckled darkly in approval. When nothing happened, she looked up to find him sucking on one of his ringed fingers before plunging it inside of her. She gasped at the contrast of his warm finger and cold rings against her walls. He curled it slightly against her front, causing her to arch her back. _Holy fu-_

He removed the finger quickly, only to replace it and add another this time before curling them both quickly, pressing against her just right. "Oh fuck", Hermione gasped.

Draco placed his lips over her clit, sucking gently, and it was too much. So much pressure, it was a sensory overload. She felt it building stronger inside of her and she grabbed his hair furiously, pressing his face closer.

His rhythm was steady and perfect, and she knew it wouldn't be long now. "Draco", she moaned, "I want...", her words slurred with pleasure.

"Are you close?", he asked her, and she nodded furiously, squeezing her eyes shut again. Suddenly everything stopped and he pulled away. Her eyes shot open, almost furious with confusion and the loss of contact. "What the-", she asked, but he flipped her quickly onto her hands and knees.

She gasped sharply when Draco struck her ass cheek once, but was more shocked that she _liked_ it. The sting of it shot through her body like electricity, and he repeated the action. Draco clicked his tongue at her teasingly, chuckling at her response. "What do you want Hermione?", he asked, spanking her again when she didn't respond.

"You", she gasped again. _Oh my God._

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific, love", Draco taunted. He squeezed her ass this time, and lowered his lips to leave love-bites there that matched the ones on her neck.

Hermione was dripping on his bed at this point, and was absolutely shocked by her own reactions. _He was right, I had no idea what to expect._

"I want you", she begged.

"Is that right?", Draco asked her. She could hear him pulling his own boxers down and placing the head of his cock at her entrance. "How do you mean?"

"Please, Draco", Hermione begged, absolute desperation in her voice. "I want you inside of me."

"Good girl", he praised before flipping her again and joining her on the bed. She felt like she had whiplash at this point - no idea what was going to happen next.

He laid her on her back again, climbing over her and grabbing a pillow. "Lift your hips, love", he instructed, sending a chill down her spine. She raised up, allowing him to place the pillow under her hips. "What's tha-", Hermione started to ask but he shushed her.

"You said you trust me", he reminded her. She nodded in agreement. Her eyes began to wander now that she could see his entire body. He was built like a greek statue, smirking down at her devilishly, flashing a dimple. She bit her lip in anticipation.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Hermione. Are you _sure_?", he asked, placing a delicate kiss on her lips.

"I'm yours. Are you mine?", she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course, Hermione, forever", Draco responded. She didn't want to think about forever, it held too much weight, too much uncertainty, and she wanted it too much. She felt the need for it. It was him for her now, and she felt in her bones that there was no alternative.

"Then I'm sure. _Forever_ ", she promised. He leaned down, capturing her lips, claiming them. He placed himself at her entrance again and slowly eased forward, causing them to gasp into each other's mouths as her walls gripped him tightly.

"Fuck, Hermione", he grunted as she slowly adjusted to his size. He stroked slowly, filling her up entirely and kissing her passionately the entire time, massaging her tongue with his. She clawed at his back, leaving scratches down his shoulder blades. It was pure bliss, and she was already on the edge from his teasing.

"You're-", Draco stuttered as he went in and out of her torturously, gradually speeding up his pace. "You're irresistible", he kissed her again. "I can't...can't get enough of you", he moaned gutturally into her neck, causing bumps to cover her skin.

He took one of his hands and interlaced his fingers with hers, placing it above her head so he could get as close to her as possible. "You set my soul on fire, Hermione Granger", he grunted into her neck, pounding into her now.

"Draco I-", Hermione gasped, "Oh God...Draco", she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him in deeper. They both groaned in response.

"It's like I...I can...", Draco stuttered, "fu-uck"

"Then I'll...gladly...burn with you", she responded between gasps. "Draco I'm-I'm gonna..." Her walls began to tighten and convulse around him as she went over the edge.

Draco sped up, going as deep as he could. "Come for me", he instructed. Hermione's vision went dark as her entire body burned with pleasure.

His strokes grew slow and uncoordinated as he reached the edge with her, moaning her name and kissing her through their finish. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, both of their bodies damp from sweat. They breathed heavily in unison with their arms wrapped around each other.

Hermione stroked his hair softly, feeling more connected to him than ever - like they were one. Like each couldn't exist without the other. Her body relaxed into his as her lids grew heavy.

She was afraid of how strongly she felt for him, and there was no explanation for it. Doubt and fear began to creep in. She couldn't help but wonder - what she felt was real, they had confirmed that, but what if the physical pull and affection was brought on by the spell. What if this connection she felt was _just_ the dragon on her arm that tied her to him and nothing more?

Would she feel the same without it? Was it removable? Would she have that mark forever?

Her mind was riddled with a thousand questions. Draco drifted off, his breath becoming steady and even, but Hermione laid wide awake.


	56. Actress

**Song** : Bird - Billie Marten

Eventually, Hermione awoke in Draco's bed to the sound of the shower running in his bathroom, steam coming through the crack in the door.

She checked the clock - 2 in the afternoon. There was a plate of pancakes on the bedside table next to her, but her stomach dropped when she looked at them. They didn't say "prisoner" or "mudblood" or even "Granger". They said "Hermione". She wasn't sure how to feel about this.

Everything felt like it was intensifying around her so quickly, but she was also relieved to have both her and Draco's feelings out in the open. Even she had been denying what she knew lied beneath her own mask for a while now. She felt closer to him than ever, in a magical, intangible way.

Her doubts for him began to fade away with how strong she felt, how _right_ it felt. But it did nothing for her concerns about Voldemort, and the side of Draco that she saw in the Daily Prophet. The side of Draco that took life and smiled about it for photos while covered in blood... _It was an act_ , she reminded herself. _But a highly believable one..._

She rubbed at her eyes softly, throwing the covers off of herself. She considered knocking on the bathroom door that was slightly ajar, but she thought better of it. She had just had her _real_ first time. She could still feel the blush on her cheeks and his lingering touch across her skin. She bit her lip at the memory but felt her nerves kick in when she heard the shower cut off.

Now that the water wasn't running, she heard something else - humming? A deep, smooth voice like butter drifted through her ears. Draco Malfoy was humming. And it was beautiful. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she was harshly reminded that she didn't know him at all, no matter how connected to him she felt.

She listened intently, recognizing the tune but unable to place it. His footsteps grew closer to the door and she quickly pulled the covers back over herself, shutting her eyes and attempting to appear asleep. Was he expecting her to leave once she woke up?

It wasn't lost on Hermione that she was still naked lying in Draco's ridiculously luxurious bed, all rolled up in his green satin sheets. Her curls were strewn about and likely a mess of chocolate frizz atop her head.

A deep chuckle emitted from Draco's chest, "You aren't a very good actress", he remarked. _You are_ , she thought to herself but pushed the thought away, opening her eyes hesitantly and clutching the sheets.

Heat spread across Hermione's face as she took him in. His damp, blonde hair was towel-dried, falling across his forehead in strands that clung together. Droplets of water landed across his chiseled chest and dripped down, down, down...

He was completely naked, shameless. Hermione yanked the covers over her head in shock, but couldn't ignore the dampness between her leg. _Fuck an angel or a greek statue - he was a God._

"Draco!", she squealed in embarrassment.

"I fucked a Hermione-shaped dent into my mattress a few hours ago and you still get flustered so easily", he laughed seductively, throaty-gravel in the sound of his voice.

"Ugh", Hermione exhaled, feeling even more wound up from his blunt words. They thrilled her. "You are shameless"

"Alright, alright, I'm decent now...although I was exceptional before", he joked.

Hermione slowly pulled the sheets away from her eyes to find a pair of black boxers sitting low on his hips. He was in the middle of pulling on a pair of dark, grey sweatpants, forgoing a shirt completely. She internally thanked him for that.

"I...um, don't have any clothes to wear", she choked out. She wasn't sure where Harry's clothes were, but she'd rather walk around Malfoy Manor starkers than put them back on. She could still smell the blood in her nose from them.

Draco turned his silver eyes sharply on her, taking slow steps in her direction before crawling across the bed to lean over her. "And why would you need to wear anything at all?", he breathed, placing heated kisses on her neck and making his way up to her ear.

Hermione exhaled heavily, "I mean...unless you want Lucius to find me indecent in the library", she chuckled. Draco scoffed and pulled back. "Need I remind you he's _blind_ , but thanks for the visual", he responded. Hermione's face went pale. _Shit_. He didn't seem to care that much, but she had effectively killed the mood.

He rolled his eyes before pulling another pair of sweatpants from his dresser and a Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt. He smirked at her, tossing the clothes her way. _Cheeky bugger_.

Hermione pulled the shirt over her head, careful to keep the covers over her. She didn't care that they had had sex now, she still felt much less comfortable with her own body than Draco clearly did.

He rolled his eyes as she pulled on the sweatpants under the covers before climbing out of bed. She had to roll the waist of the sweatpants a few times to fit and she tucked the front of the t-shirt in. Although the clothes were still too big for her, they were quite comfy, and smelled deliciously like him.

They stared at each other silently before Hermione worked up the courage to say something, "Thank you...for, well, cleaning me up and taking care of me...after last night"

Draco shook his head guilty, tensing his jaw, "don't thank me for doing something I more than owed to you. I put you in that situation."

"You didn't, you were protecting me the best you could", she argued, taking a few steps closer to where he stood, but picking at the gauze around her hand.

"No Hermione!", he shouted angrily now, causing her to flinch. "I'm sorry I...please...don't thank me. You should hate me. I've done everything possible to make you hate me and I'm convinced I'm just dreaming you don't."

"I don't hate you", Hermione whispered, placing a hand on his bare chest now, "I...I love you Draco"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut painfully. "It thrills and pains me at the same time to hear you say that. I want it, but that doesn't mean I deserve it. Please don't say that if you don't mean it"

"But I do Draco, look at me", she begged, softly turning his sharp jaw with her hand. His eyes softened slightly, boring into hers, searching.

Draco pulled her into him, wrapping an arm around her waist and using the other to guide her head forward until their lips met delicately. "I love you Hermione, please don't ever leave me", he whispered against her lips, the heat dancing across them.

"Why would I?", she asked, afraid to set him off again after seeing he was a time bomb. He didn't answer, just stared back at her with an unreadable expression. Draco could find a million reasons for her to _want_ to leave, even if she physically couldn't. He almost couldn't believe she hadn't tried already.

He coughed into his fist, clearing the air, and stepped back from her. "I erm...need to get some work done today. I'll be in my study", Draco told her before pulling a black hoodie over his head and leaving her there alone in his room.

Hermione felt like her insides were knotted up. _We need to talk about things. Lots of them. And soon._

She didn't care if he had work to get done, she'd take every spare minute he had to pick his brain with all the questions she had held back until now, as well as the answers she knew he had been holding back. Surely he would tell her these things now that he so clearly wasn't fighting his feelings anymore... _right_?


	57. Enough hurt

**Song** : Wish You’d Make Me Cry - UPSAHL

“Oh you’re fucking me”, Pansy laughed heartily. Hermione had just stepped into the hallway, prepared to march straight after Draco to his study. But Pansy and Daphne were standing in the doorway directly across from her, where she had been staying.

Pansy’s eyes roved over her, taking in Hermione’s appearance - in Draco’s clothes. Her face went red. “Nice fit, Granger. Those were always my favorite sweats too. Super comfy after a good shag”, she chuckled.

Hermione was mortified, but her eyes wandered to where Pansy and Daphne’s fingers were interlaced. Daphne tried to yank her hand away, looking nervous, but Pansy held tight. “Who’s she gonna tell, love? The portraits of Malfoy men in the hall?”

Daphne gave Hermione an apologetic glance and then they walked down the hall. Hermione didn’t move her feet until she heard the floo downstairs, signaling their departure. _I’ve got to get out of these._

Hermione went straight across the hall to change, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized charcoal sweater. She pulled her curls into a bun atop her head, stray strands falling over her forehead and framing her face.

 _She definitely knows. Oh God…_ Hermione couldn’t shake the realization of how obvious it had been. Her standing in the doorway of Draco’s room, wearing his _clothes_. Merlin, she felt like an idiot.

Hermione was, however, shocked when she noticed the black satin dress hung on the back of her door, a pair of matching black heels next to it, and emerald earrings on the table. There was a note next to it:

  1. _This goes without saying, but keep your trap shut about me and Daph. Not that you have anyone to tell, but I figured I’d cover my bases._

  2. _Don’t hurt Draco. Regardless of your false assumptions, he’s my best friend and I’m his. He’s had enough hurt, especially in the past months, don’t add to it._

  3. _You and I aren’t friends, so don’t take my gifts the wrong way. I just thought if someone was staying in my room and wearing my clothes, they ought to at least be my real-life Barbie doll for a while. You’ll do._

  4. _I also thought you could use a confidence boost after last night...Wear this to dinner tonight, I’ll have something new for you tomorrow. You’re welcome, Granger._




_xoxo - Pansy p.s. Wear the damn lipstick._

Hermione stared in a trance at the note, now noticing a tube of ruby red lipstick next to it. _Un-fucking-believable_. She was more irritated than anything that the outfit was perfect for dinner. And it was perfect for her. Not over the top, but elegant. And best of all, it wasn’t a dress from Narcissa’s closet.

She also couldn't help but soften slightly towards Pansy - she didn't want her pity, but she actually cared. There weren't many people who cared these days.

The fire that had lit Hermione was now fading, and she wasn’t sure about barging in on Draco anymore. Not yet at least. _Maybe I should just wait…_

The words from Pansy’s note echoed in her mind - _he’s had enough hurt._ She knew he had gone through some things, but maybe there was more she wasn’t seeing. He lost his mother, but he seemed mostly recovered. One of his old Slytherin pals died, but they weren’t that close...right? His father was blind, but he didn’t seem to give two shits about that.

She decided to wait until they could ease into natural conversation at least - at dinner. _That’s better. Maybe I should get him to open up to me first? No, there’s no time…_

She spent the day in the library alone, searching with no direction considering she knew absolutely nothing about the dragon on her arm. It was an utter waste of time. She found nothing.

After hours of pointless, mind-numbing searching, she headed back to her room to get ready for dinner. She was suddenly struck with the realization that she might not be expected or invited to dinner now that Halloween had passed. She was more afraid of not showing up though, in the instance that she _was_ expected. Especially after last night and that morning.

Hermione pulled on the dress Pansy left for her, and it magically fit to her figure. Beautifully. Elegantly. She was obsessed with it, everything about it, _except_ for the mile-long slit that stopped just _above_ her hip. She couldn’t even wear underwear with it. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy with Pansy, or that _modest_.

After applying the red lipstick and leaving her hair up, she actually looked... _attractive_. Okay, definitely a confidence boost. But she could never admit that to Pansy. She slipped on her heels, took a deep breath, and headed for the dining room at 7:55pm.

Hermione pushed the doors open, walking slowly in an effort not to trip over her heels - which were much higher than usual thanks to Pansy.

Draco and Lucius both turned her direction. Her entire body melted with the heat from Draco’s stare. His eyes locked directly on her leg peeking out every time she took a step. His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. She averted her eyes and took the seat across from Draco and adjacent to his father.

“You look lovely Miss Granger”, Lucius told her.

“Thank...thank you?”, Hermione responded in confusion. The man simply chuckled in response. _He’s literally blind, is he making fun of me?_

Draco cleared his throat loudly, breaking the awkward silence, “what day do you return, Father?”, he asked this harshly. Hermione noticed.

“Return?”, Hermione asked, “Oh! Sorry…”, she quickly realized it was November now.

“The fifth”, Lucius said to Draco, taking a long sip of his wing, “Wednesday. What a waste of time...no need for an army when no opposing force can defeat those in power. Therefore - no need for a commander.”

Hermione was silently sipping her wine to avoid putting her foot in her mouth.

“You know the Dark Lord couldn’t let you out of his sight after what happened with mother”, Draco told him, clenching and unclenching his fists covered in endless black and silver rings.

“Ah”, Lucius responded, a smirk growing on his lips, “and now I won’t let him out of _my_ sight either”, he chuckled darkly. _Huh?_

Hermione was extremely confused, and Draco appeared to be just as lost, but they let it go. Lucius was an enigma of a man.

Dinner was tolerable, no better or worse than it had been the weeks before. But Hermione and Draco kept making eye contact, which would send heat all over Hermione’s body. Like his gaze alone set her on fire. Every time this happened she’d awkwardly drop her fork on the floor or choke on her food. She was mortified.

Lucius excused himself after an hour had passed, but Draco didn’t move a muscle, so neither did Hermione. They needed to talk about things, lots of them.

After the doors shut, Draco rose from his chair and walked around the table to stand behind her. Placing one hand on her thigh and dragging it up slowly, her breath caught. “You”, he whispered in her ear, pausing to place a kiss there, “are a vision.”

Hermione shuddered at his words, feeling moisture pool between her legs, and growing nervous considering she wasn’t wearing underwear. She got the impression that Draco knew that as well. She squeezed her legs together to ease the throb.

Draco pulled her chair backwards, causing her to gasp in surprise. He knelt next to her, placing a kiss on her ankle, slowly making his way up her calf, knee, thigh and further. “Oh God”, she moaned softly.

“Thought he’d never leave”, Draco muttered into her hip, “I can think of a thousand ways to take you right here.” Hermione bit her lip hard, feeling his mouth wander ever closer to where she wanted it.

“Draco…”, she trailed off as he yanked her hips forward in the chair and pulled the slit higher, removing any barriers between them.

“Hermione”, he responded before sucking harshly on her hip bone and then placing a kiss over the bruise that formed there.

They were so out in the open, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He quickly put his tongue to work, causing her to gasp, and he reached up with one hand to cover her mouth. “I need you to be quiet, love. Can you do that for me?”, he asked, eyes on hers, but mouth still on her core.

“Fuck…”, Hermione muttered quietly, causing him to laugh. “Wait I think-”, she was cut off when he slipped two fingers inside her, combining it with the pressure on her clitoris. Her release was building inside her already.

“Draco I-”, she started, but he placed his hand more firmly over her mouth, shushing her against her skin, sending shockwaves through her body.

Her hands threaded through his hair, desperately searching for something to hold on to as her thighs began to shake. _Fuck it, we’ll talk after._ “I want you Draco, _please_ ”, she begged.

Draco stood quickly, picking her up to stand, and turned her around to face the table. He pushed her down, one hand on her back, so she was bent over the table. She heard the sound of his zipper and sucked in a breath in anticipation.

She felt his head at her entrance and he took both of her hands in one of his behind her back, using his other hand to grab her by the hair as he slid into her with a low groan.

“Oh God”, they moaned in unison. He slammed into her from behind, quickly increasing his pace. It was glorious, creating all kinds of filthy sounds as his hip bones slapped against her cheeks repeatedly.

He pulled her back by the hair so that her back was against him and he kissed her viciously, stealing the breath from her lungs. It was like drowning in heat.

“You’re perfect, Hermione”, he said between grunts and heated kisses, “you know that?”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut as she felt herself growing closer to the edge as he filled her repeatedly. “I’m...oh God Draco”, she stuttered.

“I want to feel you come all over me, that’s it Hermione”, he said against her ear, reaching down to rub her clit. She gasped and her legs started to shake as her body was electrified.

“Ah fuck...FUCK”, Draco shouted as he lost himself with her, holding her body close, wrapping his arms around her front and burying his face in her neck.

They both gasped sharply, struggling to catch their breath and feeling exhausted from the aftershocks of their pleasure.

“I love you”, he whispered into her neck, “and I love you”, she responded with stars in her eyes. “But-”, she started and he groaned.

“Granger, that is not what a man wants to hear after a shag like that”, he sighed, chuckling lightly as he brushed a hair behind her ear.


	58. Mutual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some translations in this chapter - if any are wrong I sincerely apologize. I only speak English unfortunately, so there's a strong chance there are mistakes there, please don't hate me for that. Blame Google Translate :)

**Song** : Atlantis - Seafret

“This seems serious”, Draco commented after placing a kiss on Hermione’s cheek affectionately.

“Well yes, but, I mean, I don’t think you should really be worried about it. Realistically I just think that there are some things that we should maybe, well, we _need_ to discuss in further detail before things-”, he cut her off with another kiss, realizing how nervous she seemed.

Without another word, he smoothed her dress back down for her, took her hand in his, and led her upstairs to his room. They sat together on his perfectly made bed - she assumed this was the handiwork of Bopsy or another elf in the manor. Draco didn’t seem the type to make his own bed. She chuckled silently at the mental image of him doing so.

Draco laid back against the headboard, spreading his legs so he could pull her back to his front between them, and wrapped his arms around her waist. His fingers soothingly stroked up and down her arms, circling her wrists and the palms of her hands.

“Draco...I don’t even know where to start”, she hesitated, chills prickling all over her skin from his feather-light touch.

He tucked his chin into the crook of her neck, placing another light kiss on her cheek, making her eyelids flutter. Hermione felt so incredibly in tune with her heart beat and his as she felt it at her back. They were completely synchronized. Like one person. One soul. One being.

“You have questions”, he said, an observation, not a question. It wasn’t hard to guess, but it still had electricity shooting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Because right before he said it, she had been thinking simply _I have questions._

 _A coincidence, surely._ But the timing and accuracy of his words in tandem with her thoughts was still unsettling and oddly calming.

“Hermione”, Draco pulled her from her trance-like state, “ask me anything”

Hermione hesitated, feeling her heart-rate flicker with nervousness. _How do I know you’ll tell the truth?_

“Of course I’ll tell the truth”, he defended aloud.

Hermione froze like a statue against his chest, “w-what?”

“Why would, I mean I understand your doubts after all that’s happened, but still, why would I lie? After everything I’ve-”, the words spilled from Draco’s mouth like honey but Hermione cut him off.

“No, why did you say that?”, she asked, slowly turning to look back over her shoulder at him when his fingers halted their pathway on her palms.

“Well...you....you said…”, he appeared confused and doubtful of his own perception now.

“I didn’t say that...I _thought_ it...how did you..?”, Hermione’s ears felt hot and her left bicep tingled near her mark.

Draco could feel his pulse beating under his skin tightly, his heart rate increasing. _I could’ve sworn she...I can’t...I didn’t hear anything per se but…_

“But you knew”, Hermione finished. Both of their eyes landed on each other, locking in place, pupils blown wide and in synch. A chill crept its way up her spine.

“I think we should start with the-”, Hermione began.

“Sanguis Stigma”, Draco finished her statement, filling it with words he was sure she didn’t recognize. “Hermione”, he added as an afterthought when the dragon on her arm began to glow red.

It was like she was in his head, or he was in hers. Neither were sure, but recognition crossed their faces at the same time.

_What just happened? Sangwee Stig-g what did you call it?_

_Your mark. The spell...ritual...whatever. Sanguis Stigma - that’s what it's called._

Neither had opened their mouth in this exchange. Not once. No noise made externally. To an outsider, it would appear that they were staring into one another’s eyes for an uncomfortable extent of time.

“Sanguis Stigma”, Hermione whispered aloud, and the glow died out.

“What was-”, Hermione stopped.

“I don’t know…”, Draco responded, his fingers absentmindedly running over the dragon.

Draco grabbed her hand instinctively, forcing her to follow him to his study. He began to dig aggressively through his desk drawers, tossing things aside quickly. Hermione took a few steps back to get out of his line of fire. Finally, he seemed less frantic when he pulled a small notebook from the middle drawer - it had been locked when Hermione searched his study. He didn’t know this, and she certainly wasn’t about to tell him.

She circled the desk to stand at his side, investigating the sloppy handwriting.

“...didn’t say anything about...fucking Yaxley…”, he mumbled under his breath.

“Draco”, Hermione tried, placing a hand on his arm and feeling that same electricity she always did when her skin touched his. “How much does...how much do you…”

“Apparently not shit”, Draco spat, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He began to pace the room and Hermione took advantage of the moment to search the journal, her eyes frantically searching the sloppy scribbles and sketches.

**_Sanguis Stigma_ **

_ Preparations _ _:_

_The receiver of the Sanguis Stigma should bathe before the spell is performed._

_The receiver must wear all black for the spell._

_The receiver must drink a vial of the performer's blood**_

_**the performer must bloodlet 3 days before, allowing the blood to sit in the vial for no less than 72 hours; add 2 drops of amortentia, 3 ½ drops veritaserum, 1 ¾ drops of calming draught, 1 ⅔ drops of weakness potion_

Hermione did her best to ignore the way her stomach drop when she read the ingredients, specifically the amortentia and the weakness potion. The “performer’s blood” part was unsettling, but she knew this already. She continued reading.

_After collecting the receiver’s blood and mixing it with that of the performer’s,_ _both_ _must drink the potion to seal the bond._

_Bond? He drank it too..._ Hermione’s eyes were drawn to notes that were scribbled in various places to the point of becoming illegible. She could barely make anything out except for a few words like _mutual_ and _compatibility_. Her breathing was shortening quickly and she tried to calm herself.

“Draco...I think that…”, she was incredibly nervous now. Her skin was already itching to search every nook and cranny of the library for information.

“That Yaxley clearly left some things out about this? Yes, thanks for pointing that out.”, he said sarcastically, his eyes growing dark. Hermione twisted her face in frustration. “I’m sorry I…”, Draco apologized, quickly regretting the way he snapped at her.

Hermione waved her hand in dismissal. _Whatever, this isn’t the most important thing right now._

“No, it isn’t”, he whispered in response to her thoughts. Hermione’s hands shook slightly at this, growing more and more uneasy. _What else do we not know?_

 _Mutual_ and _compatibility_ ran through her mind over and over until the curiosity got the better of her. She searched the room quickly for something, Draco’s face portraying obvious confusion.

“Get on your knees”, Hermione said plainly to Draco, and he did.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but Hermione’s eyes did the opposite. “Tell me what song you were humming in the shower.”

“Landslide”, he responded instantly, still kneeling on the floor. Hermione gasped, but Draco was still lost, not processing what she had. His answer confused and delighted her all at once. _Were the records in my room his?_ She quickly shook this thought away - _a discussion for another time_.

“Tell me if you enjoy executing those people”, she said instinctively, instantly regretting it.

“I do, it excites me and shows how powerful I can be. The best part is spilling their blood all over my hands and seeing life leave their eyes. It reminds me of watching my Mother die and it brings me peace. Not sure why.”, he responded plainly, truthfully. His jaw dropped slightly, his mouth hanging open. “Why did…Hermione I... ”

“Well”, Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably, “now I know. Yaxley failed to tell you that the _bond_ is mutual to both parties. I can command you in the same way you can command me.” She tried her hardest to change the subject, feeling entirely unsettled by his answer. Almost sick. “Get up”, she commanded, not feeling sorry for it in the slightest. He did.

The wheels turned in Draco’s head and it all made sense. Entirely.

He slowly met her gaze, thankful that she ignored his painfully truthful and disturbing response. It surprised even him, but he was partly thankful he hadn’t had the opportunity to lie. He could sense that would’ve been worse.

As if sharing the same thought, they both raced towards the door. Draco threw it open and they made their way to the library, feet pounding against the hard floors of the manor. They both searched the library up and down. Nothing.

Hours passed to no avail. Not a thing about “Sanguis Stigma”. _Stigma._ _Bond. Mark._ Draco suddenly remembered the latin he hadn’t studied or spoken since he was 13. _Sanguis Stigma. Blood Mark. Blood Brand._

He summoned a book from one of the shelves - a translation dictionary. He quickly began to jot down “Blood Mark/Brand” in various languages and made his way to the section of the library that contained texts from all different languages. Hermione followed eagerly.

Hermione took the paper from his hand and looked at the list:

_Marchio de Sangue - Italian_

_Vermarka - Hungarian_

_Marka Krovi - Russian_

_Marca de Sangre - Spanish_

_Marque de Sang - French_

_Marka Krwi - Polish_

The list went on this way - translations of Blood Mark in every language Hermione could imagine - some she didn’t even recognize. It was a long list.

Draco levitated at least a hundred books to the table and they set to work. He even summoned Bopsy for tea. It was going to be a long night.


	59. One you won't regret

**Song** : minor - Gracie Abrams

They spent hours researching the mark and barely made a dent in the stack of books on the table. It was exhausting. Around 2am, Hermione fell asleep but Draco was still knee deep in the texts. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to his room, tucking her in and brushing the curls from her face. _How did I get so lucky?_

He took a deep breath, thoughts riddled with conflict as he made his way to the East Wing of the manor. It was colder here. Darker.

“What brings you here at this hour?”, Lucius asked his son when he entered, shutting the door behind him. Draco strode over to the window, staring out into the darkness deep in thought, fiddling with his rings much like his father did.

“It’s the girl isn’t it”, Lucius commented after a few moments of painful silence.

Draco’s eyes dropped to the floor and he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“I see you’re fighting it, but why?”, Lucius asked him curiously, seated comfortably in his chair and stroking the top of his snake-headed staff.

Once again, Draco didn’t answer. “You came to me Draco, now answer me boy!”, he demanded angrily, causing Draco to startle slightly. He expected a smack over the head from his father’s staff that never came. Everything was different these days.

Suddenly he turned quickly towards his father, balling his fists at his sides. “What happened to _Mudbloods_ and _Pure blood superiority_? You see her differently too and you know it!”, he shouted at Lucius.

Lucius narrowed his pale, sightless eyes at his son, “Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future, and renders the present inaccessible. This may surprise you, but your mother quite liked the muggle Maya Angelou...muggle culture in general”, he said with a slight scowl. “She didn’t know I knew that though”, he added with a soft smile as he remembered the wife he loved so dearly even after her passing.

“Don’t act like you knew her better than me. You treated her like dirt under your shoe and suddenly had a change in tone when her eyes grew lifeless in front of eyes", Draco scoffed.

“You know _nothing_ of my relationship with your Mother. Shut your mouth before you say something you’ll regret”, he said threateningly, rising from his chair. Draco narrowed his eyes at his father, scrunching up his face in disgust, but didn’t say the word.

“Miss Granger...she reminds me of Narcissa very much”, Lucius told him, as if it were an obvious statement. A fact, not an opinion. “She reads as often as your mother did. She’s intelligent beyond words. She has a good heart.”

“Oh, so that's what this softness towards Hermione is? Dressing her in mother’s clothes and having her read mother’s books to you like some sick recreation? You’re disgusting”, he spat in Lucius’s face.

“I told you”, Lucius said firmly, gripping the staff until his knuckles turned white, “there’s no need for her things to go to waste. I can’t imagine anyone else would appreciate your mother’s things as much as Miss Granger does. Narcissa would be happy to know her possessions are being used by someone worthy of them”, he said, clearing his throat and smoothing his pale blonde hair back.

Draco loved Hermione, but didn’t like the strange similarities that Lucius seemed so observant of. It was uncomfortable. But he was even more uncomfortable that he saw it too. Had for a while now.

“What exactly do you plan to do when the Dark Lord calls for her finally?”, Lucius asked him, as if Draco hadn’t already asked himself this question a million times. Toiled over it mentally for weeks, and even months now.

“What do you mean?”, Draco asked incredulously, as if this was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

Lucius scoffed at his son, spinning his rings in circles around his fingers. “Don’t lie, or at least try a bit harder if you insist on it”, he replied snarkily.

“I don’t have a choice and you know it!”, Draco screamed, slamming his fists down on the desk. Lucius didn’t even flinch. As if he saw it coming.

He exhaled heavily, quickly losing patience with his son. “There’s always a choice, we create the boundaries on what we can and cannot do.”

“There are no choices here, father! You think mother had a choice whether to live or die?”, Draco asked hysterically.

“I think she had a choice between her life and her son’s, and she never had a second thought. It wasn’t a question for her when it came to someone she loved”, Lucius told him.

Draco’s eyes began to water furiously and he turned his head away sharply. Embarrassed whether Lucius could see it or not. Ashamed at what Hermione did to him emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

“So what is your choice? Your life, or hers?”, Lucius asked him calmly. “Whatever it is, make the choice you won’t regret.”

Draco stared at his father through his blurred vision. The man before him simply sipped his firewhiskey as if they were discussing a simple quidditch match. He left without another word.

Draco paced the halls of the Manor, filled with worry and turmoil over the situation. He felt like he was losing his mind. Suddenly, Hermione was his world, but deep down he felt that she had slowly come to be that way for months now. Nothing would change that.

Every decision he made moving forward had to be for her now. Whether he made it through alive or not, she had to. No matter what it took. He’d jump in front of a killing curse for her without hesitation. Her life was more important. More pure. She hadn’t executed hundreds of people publicly and _liked it_. He had, and he was sickened by this fact. He knew it was wrong, but that didn’t change it.

While they needed to learn more about the Sanguis Stigma, that wasn’t at the top of his list. When he was with her, it would be. But other than that, his mission was to find out what Voldemort had planned for her, and to stop it. Even if he had to kill the snake himself. He was barely human, how hard could it be?


	60. Bewitching

**Song** : Savior Complex - Phoebe Bridgers

Hermione awoke to a cold bed that she didn’t remember falling asleep in. _The research, Merlin there’s so much left._ This thought was exhausting but exhilarating for her. How nice it was to have something to _learn_ about. How horrifying it was not knowing a thing…

She rolled over slightly, disappointed to see she was alone there. Without Draco.

It was still dark outside and she rubbed her eyes for focus. Moonlight streamed in through the open balcony doors, the wind blowing its curtains eerily.

Hermione rolled out of the bed, her feet gently meeting the wooden floor, and wrapped the sheet around herself to fight the chilling air. She slowly paced towards the door, finding Draco there. _Thank Merlin._ She hadn’t thought the worst per se, but she definitely hadn’t assumed the best either when he wasn’t there next to her in his own bed.

He was looking out over the front of the property - the opposite of the view Hermione’s room held - and he appeared deep in thought. Wearing a pair of sweatpants and a charcoal colored jumper, Draco leaned against the railing, crossing one foot in front of the other, a glass full of pale umber liquid in his hand.

She took a slow, hesitant step towards him, breaking the silence, “Draco?”

Without turning his head, Draco reached back to her with the hand not holding alcohol, and pulled her to his chest, engulfing her in his warmth against the frigid November air.

She buried her head in his chest, taking in his scent. Subtle, but ever present. It warmed her even further. The scent of coffee beans was stronger on his sweater, but the teakwood lingered. They stared at the stars together, as if they were the only two left on earth. It certainly felt that way.

Hermione smiled softly, feeling safe in his arms. Something she never thought Draco Malfoy would or could make her feel.

Meanwhile, Draco bit his cheek harshly until it bled, staring dazedly down at her without realizing it. His thoughts were in the worst places. _Hermione hurt. Hermione crying. Hermione dead. No Hermione at all. All because of me._ His body tensed at the thoughts he couldn’t seem to push away.

Could you lose something that was never really yours? Was she his? Would she ever truly be? What if she didn’t actually want to be? He felt as possessed by her as he felt possession _over_ her. Not in that ‘lock you in a cage forever and never let you out’ way - although she was in that situation regardless. He didn’t want that.

He wanted to whisk her away to somewhere else. _Anywhere_ else. Where she could be free. Where she could be without him if that’s what she wanted. He could stare at her forever, feeling her warm breath against his neck, burning to death under the suffocating feelings he had developed. They set him on fire. _She_ set him on fire.

What they had was such a sharp contrast to everything around them. To the cold, desolate world that was coming to fruition due to Voldemort’s reign, and begrudgingly, because of Draco's assistance as well.

He hated this vulnerability. He had never known it. Never felt it. But now, it was all he felt. His thoughts revolved around her non-stop, like a fly buzzing in your ear, causing a chill to run down your neck and spreading to your shoulders.

But most of all, he hated that he couldn’t make her _happy_. Couldn’t _free_ her. Could he? For the first time in his life, he cared more about Hermione Granger’s life than his own. He didn’t care if he died tomorrow, so long as she made it through.

She admired the stars, but he admired her. Hermione was the star that brightened his night sky. The _stars_ really. The sun that blistered his skin with passion which wouldn't rest until his skin peeled and ached. She was, well, _everything_.

Hermione Granger was...one of a kind? Unique? Special? Different? There wasn’t even a word for it. She was... _bewitching_. And he was helpless under her spell. Oh the irony of it all. He squeezed her tighter, holding his breath at the thought of not having his. Of not having her. Now that he did, he could never let her go.

She met his gaze, amber and orange flames meeting grey, frozen stones. He was like death, and she breathed life into him. Engulfed him with it. Changed him. He wished he was strong enough to change himself.

Draco noticed her shivering in the cold, but he was numb. He led her back into his room, closing the balcony door and curtains to darken the room. He laid next to her, stroking her curls and placing gentle kisses against her forehead.

She looked so peaceful. He tried to memorize it. The soft curve of her pale, rosy lips. The freckles that ran haphazardly across her nose. The way she always pulled her knees to her chest when she needed comfort. Even now, she was curled up in a ball under his covers.

After her breathing evened out, Draco slipped out of bed and put on a pair of running shoes. He slipped on a hoodie in place of his jumper and set out for the yard. He ran laps until his fingers were blue, the tip of his nose stinging from the cold.

After he lost track of time and the sun began to peek over the horizon, he slammed himself harshly into the wrought iron french on the far side of the yard. He punched it as hard as possible, his knuckles instantly splitting open and bleeding bright red. “FUCK!”, he yelled, punching the iron again with his other hand. “Fuck”, he breathed, more defeated this time.

He slowly sunk to the ground, leaning his back against the fence, blood flowing freely from his knuckles now and bruises forming eagerly. He flexed and unflexed his hands before bringing them to his face shakily. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. He brushed them away in anger, his fingers still numb from the chill. “Fuck, what am I going to do?”, he muttered to no one but himself.

~~~

 **Song** : Break My Heart Again - FINNEAS

Once again, Hermione was alone in his bed, and painfully aware of it before she even opened her eyes. She assumed he would be working in his study, occupied. Or hopefully, doing research in the library. She got dressed for the day and made her way to the library.

He wasn’t there. _He has jobs. Jobs that could get him killed if he doesn’t do them. He doesn’t have time to do this all day every day like I do._

She defended him passionately in her own mind, but the doubts pursued due to his strange behavior in the night. His strange _absence._

Hermione proceeded to work her way down the list of texts, feeling progressively disappointed and lost. So far - nothing. She kept coming back to Yaxley’s notebook. Something wasn’t adding up and she could sense it. Feel it in her blood and bones. Every fiber of her being shouted that they were missing something.

After hours spent there with no progress, she resigned for the day and went to her room to shower and prepare for dinner. When she left the bathroom, a lovely topaz gown was waiting for her. It flowed like water down her body, the silk shimmering under the lights.

Excited to finally see Draco and proud of herself for not crowding him all day, she swiped on mascara and nude lipstick left by Pansy before making her way downstairs.

She couldn’t hold back her disappointment when she entered the room only to find Lucius. “Good evening Miss Granger”, the eldest Malfoy greeted her.

“Good evening Lucius”, she responded, “will Draco be joining us tonight?” She tried her hardest to conceal the hope behind her question.

“Unfortunately, Draco is occupied by work - he’s away. Is my company not enough?”, Lucius asked.

Hermione’s stomach plummeted, fearing that he was somewhere executing innocents with an eerie smile on his face. The photos from the Daily Prophet of blood splattered across his face and clothes haunted her vision.

“N-no that...that isn’t what I meant”, Hermione blushed, thanking Merlin he couldn’t see the color filling her cheeks. “I just...you’ll be going back to work in a few days...and…”

“And you don’t want to be alone”, Lucius finished for her.

“Nothing gets by you does it”, she forced a laugh.

“Not a thing. Tell me Miss Granger, you had a pet at Hogwarts, yes?, he asked out of nowhere. Hermione twisted her face in confusion before responding.

“Oh yes, Crookshanks. My cat. He, um, well…”, she responded. Hermione had no clue where Crookshanks was now, and her heart sank. She missed him terribly. She fought the tears that threatened to form. _He’s probably dead. Alone at best._

Lucius didn’t say another word in regards to Hermione’s cat, barely filling the gaps of dinner with small talk here and there. When it was over, Hermione made her way upstairs, hesitating in the hall between her and Draco’s rooms.

She ultimately chose her own. It didn’t feel right to sleep in Draco’s room without him. It was too cold that way.


	61. Amity

Song: BANG BANG - GRAE

Everything felt out of control. A week went by. Draco hadn’t returned.

Hermione was losing patience. He was the last thing she had that kept her sane. She was ready to have control again.

She woke up the day Lucius departed for the first time, entirely alone in the manor. She got out of bed and showered until her pale skin turned pink. Dressing in a black jumper, jeans, and trainers, she set off to yet another day of research.

Notes were quickly filling the notebook Bopsy had retrieved for her. The pages were already stained with coffee and tea, scribbles crowding the pages, and it looked years worn. Hermione reviewed the most important points she had thus far:

Multiple variations of S.S. found in different languages ***Sanguis Stigma.

Some require regular bloodletting, strange “connection” rituals, etc.

None exactly like Yaxley’s - appears to be pieced together from others

It didn’t appear that Yaxley had followed any one specific ritual. Hermione proceeded to annotate the texts, noting which aspects were present in Yaxley’s journal. What still unnerved her was the lack of information from his specific version of the spell.

If this was, truly, a unique mesh of the variations, there was no way to know things without testing them. And what did testing them require? A wand. Something to channel her magic. Hermione hadn’t so much as touched one in months.

She had spent much of the last week looking into wandless magic, but it could only do so much...Hermione managed to levitate things, use engorgio and reducto on items, but it was as far as she could manage. It wasn’t going to be enough, and she felt foolish even considering the possibility. She needed Draco here. Needed his help. She hated that.

Hermione wanted more than anything to be able to do this on her own, but she couldn’t. The nature of the magic upon them prevented it. They needed to push their limits. But what was worse...she knew Draco wouldn’t like some of those limits. Meaning...she would likely have to be the one to push them. There was no choice here.

A few of the European versions of the Sanguis Stigma were removable, others weren’t. Death being the only parting in those instances. She prayed to Merlin this wasn't one of those cases.

One thing that seemed consistent in all versions - both were marked in some way or another. Was he? He would have told her...right? Surely if all others were this way, then Yaxley’s would be as well. He wasn’t original or powerful enough to change that - she was sure.

It seemed that more questions than answers presented themselves over the past week. What are the limits to commanding your mutual? Are there limits? Is Yaxley’s version permanent? She needed inside his head. That was the only way to find answers. Which was an entirely separate problem altogether.

A new game now - a waiting game. That’s what presented itself. She needed Draco back but she couldn’t risk his life. Commanding him to come back, well, it could have consequences. And there was a possibility it wouldn’t even work. Hermione tucked that option into her back pocket as a last resort.

~~~

Song: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

Luckily, Lucius returned that night. Draco still didn’t. Hermione stopped asking about Draco after the 3rd day, and they hadn’t spoken of him since. She boldly forwent the formalities this time, opting for the same outfit she had worn that day. Fuck it. That’s the least important thing right now.

“Good evening”, she confidently greeted Lucius when she entered the dining room. The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Good evening to you Miss Granger - no gown for you this evening?”, he asked with a smirk. Her feet stopped, skidding to a halt. How did…?

“By all means, have a seat. I know playing dress-up isn’t your style”, he continued, ignoring the confusion he caused her in his previous statement.

Hermione cleared her throat, having lost the mental momentum she entered with, but tried to catch up to it as she took the seat next to him.

“Lucius”, she said, hesitating, unsure.

“Miss Granger”, he countered, turning his colorless eyes in her direction. It made her shudder slightly.

“I know I’m not in a place to make demands or even requests...I’m obviously, well, the situation is…”, she tried not to stutter her words.

“Anything. Just ask”, Lucius cut her off. Hermione’s face warmed. She still wasn’t sure of this request.

“Alright, um, I need a wand”, she said brazenly after a deep breath.

“Done. Bopsy! Bring me Narcissa’s wand”, he said as the elf briefly appeared and disappeared on his command.

“W-wait I...I didn’t mean”, she began but he held a hand up to stop her.

Bopsy reappeared with the wand, handing it to Lucius. He held it softly, stroking the length in admiration as if remembering his wife. He handed it to Hermione, but she stared at it in fear. She hadn’t meant this.

“Take it. Put it to good use”, Lucius smiled softly. It wasn't a suggestion, but he said it that way for her benefit.

She hesitantly reached out for it, immediately feeling the magic in her veins surge to life at the contact. She gasped as the lights flickered in the room.

“Hm...curious”, Lucius commented. But he didn’t appear surprised by her compatibility with Narcissa’s wand at all. Hermione admired it for a moment, marveling at the hum under her palm. She didn’t even want to put it down. She had missed that feeling.

She held it in one hand the entire time she was at dinner, discarding any other questions that she brought with her. He had already given her a world of possibility in this one gesture.

As they finished the last of the wine, having had more conversion that night than any others, Lucius cleared his throat before speaking. “I have something for you”, he stated.

“For me?”, she asked in disbelief. “But, you’ve already-”

He cut her off - no surprise. “That’s what I said isn’t it?”, he chuckled slightly. He waved his hand and a bright red box appeared in front of Hermione, a golden bow adorning the top. She stared at it in surprise. “Well go on then”, he insisted, “I didn’t get you a gift for you to simply stare at the wrapping, Miss Granger.”

She quickly undid the bow, took the top of the box off, and her jaw dropped. Inside was a beautiful, green-eyed tabby cat. It mewed happily as she scooped it up into her lap. Crookshanks.

She was overwhelmed by the gesture, tears forming in her eyes quickly. “Lucius I-”

“Despite my loathing of cats, I thought you might like one. Thought it would help with being alone in the manor since I know you like them. All I ask in return is that you don’t come to dinner again in those ridiculous muggle pants”, he teased.

She chuckled softly through her tears of joy. “How would you know if I did?”, she asked, teasing as well, but more out of curiosity.

“Nothing gets by me, remember?”, he said with a smirk, giving a genuine laugh. The first she had ever heard from him. It sounded so much like Draco’s. “Don’t let it roam around the manor making a mess”, he added as he scooted his chair back, standing to leave the room.

“Wait!”, Hermione said, standing with the cat in her arms. He glanced over his shoulder slightly, waiting for her to speak. “Thank you”, she said, hesitantly pulling him into a hug, despite the size difference between them.

He froze in place for a moment before accepting it, wrapping his arms around Hermione in a way reminiscent of her father. “Now you won’t be lonely...”, he said in a whisper before pulling back and leaving her there. He was lonely. She could hear the subtle admission behind his words. Her heart ached for the man.

Hermione nuzzled against the cat in her arms. She was beautiful. She wasn’t Crookshanks, but she felt so familiar. So calming and nurturing already. She decided to name her Amity, in honor of their new friendship.


	62. Lure

**Song** : Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation

Daylight streamed in through Hermione’s window. She stretched out, almost forgetting about the fur ball that was curled up under the covers at her feet. Amity climbed up towards Hermione, stretching and purring against her hand.

“Good morning love, what shall we do this fine morning?”, she asked playfully. Amity walked over to the breakfast on the table in response. Hermione smiled, placing a kiss on the cat’s head. She picked up the fork, ready to cut into her pancakes when she heard the sound of the floo. Her heart raced.

Lucius had already left for the day, meaning…

Hermione didn’t even bother changing out of her pajamas - she had slept in his shirt and her knickers every night since he left - before rushing into the hall and jerking the door open quickly.

And there he was, stepping into his office, wearing his black suit. She followed after him quickly, heart beating heavily in her chest. “You’re back”, she stated plainly.

Draco froze where he stood facing away from her before slowly pivoting on his heel to meet her eyes. He looked exhausted. Bags formed under his eyes and his cheeks were slightly sunken in. Amity circled Hermione's feet protectively, having followed her from her room.

He nodded slightly before turning away to sit at his desk and direct his attention to the papers there. _Are you serious?_

“You _left_ ”, she stated, voice growing more irritated now. He didn’t even react. Instead, scribbled on the paper but she was almost certain he wasn’t actually writing anything.

Hermione marched forward quickly, slapping his arm, heat filling her body. “You didn’t even say goodbye”, she said, voice raised and eyes on fire. His hand froze on the paper, quill still between his fingers. She huffed, feeling her skin prickle with anger, and turned to pace away.

“Granger wait!”, he said, and she had no choice. She froze on the spot, her feet halting without permission. She was furious now.

“How DARE you!”, she shouted, turning to face him. “After all that you’ve done, that we’ve been through, that’s been _said_ , and you leave without a word? I understand you have priorities and there was never any clear distinction as to what _this_ is”, she said gesturing between the two of them, “but that doesn’t give you the right to regress into the same complete _arsehole_ you were at Hogwarts!” Her face was aflame, she could feel it. And judging by the expression on his face, his lips parted in shock, she had made her point. But she wasn’t done.

“ _and_ how _DARE_ you command me. Back to Granger _again_? I suppose ‘always’ meant about a _week_ in your book. I want to leave now”, she demanded.

“No”, he responded from his chair, expression unreadable now.

“Draco, I swear to-”, she began again but he cut in.

“No Hermione! I meant, no...I’m sorry Hermione”, he rose from his chair, striding towards her.

“Yes, I’m _sure_ you are. The second you’re home and lonely again I’m a bloody _convenience_ to you!”, she shouted, fists balling at her sides.

Two large hands grabbed her face firmly, cold rings pressed against her heated cheeks, and his silver eyes pierced hers. “Listen to me”, he practically growled, “you, Hermione Granger, are _many_ things, but convenient is _not_ one of them”.

He stared at her lips as if entranced, watching them move as she spoke quietly, “then what am I?”, her breath felt heavy slipping past her lips.

“Fucking trascendent. Beautiful. Intelligent.”, he attacked her lips with fervor, swiftly claiming them. “ _Mine_ ”, he whispered heatedly against her lips.

She gasped as he scooped her up, carrying her to his desk. He swiped all the contents to the floor and spread her knees, allowing him to step between them. He gripped her hips, pulling her towards him, and captured her lips again.

“You’re wearing my clothes”, he said with a smirk between sweeps of his tongue.

“Your shirt”, Hermione corrected, gasping heavily, “there’s a difference”

He captured her bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and moving to suck along the sensitive skin at her jaw. She moaned in response. “Whatever you say love”, he chuckled. Her body heated with need, moisture pooling between her legs already.

Suddenly Draco jerked back from her, “FUCK! What the-”, they both looked down to see a mischievous tabby cat there.

“Amity no!”, Hermione shouted at the cat after noticing the blood seeping through Draco’s pant leg.

“ _WHO?_ ”, Draco asked incredulously.

“This is my cat - Amity”, she told him as she scooped up the cat who gave her an apologetic glance but hissed at Draco.

“Where the fuck did you get a cat?”, his jaw was on the floor, his eyebrows to the ceiling.

She didn’t respond. _Lucius didn’t tell him?_

“Um...Lucius got her for me...so I wouldn’t be alone when you’re both gone”, she said awkwardly. The whole moment had quickly gone south, and not in the way she thought it would.

An expression of guilt spread across Draco’s features. Without another comment on Amity, he pulled his pant leg up to see the damage. Crimson scrapes were across his shin, still bleeding from the cat’s attack. He cast a spell to stop the bleeding and clean the wound.

“I’m sorry...I’m sure she didn’t mean to”, Hermione told him, setting the cat down on the desk.

Draco looked at her sceptically, then to Amity, then back to Hermione. “Right”, he said sarcastically when Amity hissed at him again and narrowed her eyes.

There was an uncomfortable pause before Hermione worked up the courage to get back to what she started. “Why did you leave?”, she asked him nervously.

He sighed before answering, “the Dark Lord called - I had to answer”.

“But you’ve never been gone that long before...and you didn’t say goodbye or tell me you were leaving”, she wanted an answer this time and he could see the genuine hurt in her eyes.

“Hermione I…”, he hesitated, threading his fingers through hers affectionately and placing a kiss there, “I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”, she asked in confusion.

“Us”, he said simply, meeting her eyes. The fear was evident in him. The worry.

“What is there to do?”, she bit her cheek uncomfortably.

“Hermione, if I don’t hand you over when the Dark Lord is ready, he’ll kill my father and I. If I hand you over, he’ll dispose of you as soon as you no longer serve a purpose. And...I can’t hand you over”

“Why not? Clearly this - whatever it is - doesn’t mean much to you. Not really anyway”, she said spitefully, her anger returning.

“You know that’s not true”, he responded in frustration.

“Oh, do I?”, she asked challengingly, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

“Let me put this simply. I don’t know what this is either. All I know is I can’t - _won’t_ hand you over. Voldemort killed my mother, I won’t let him do the same to you”, he responded, eyes sharp.

“Draco, I would never expect you to risk you and your father’s lives for my own. We’ve known my fate from day one, it’s just a waiting game. Everyone I loved is dead - whatever’s left of the resistance can’t be strong, and it won’t be long until there aren’t any of them left.”, Amity mewed at her and she crossed to scoop up the cat again.

“Hermione, there’s something you should know”, Draco said suddenly, hoping this detail would encourage her to fight - to understand why she couldn't just be complacent. Whatever it took.

She waited in anticipation, arms frozen around Amity. “The Weasleys are alive. Three of them at least. You know about Weaselbee, then there’s one of those twins, and the oldest. I don’t know all the names they all look the same”, he chuckled.

“George and Charlie are alive too?”, she gasped in shock, “anyone else?”

“That’s all I know, but the death eaters are almost positive they’re leading the resistance along with Mcgonagall and Kingsley, we aren’t sure about anyone else”, he responded, running his hands through his hair. _Holy shit. They’re alive. They’re the Incendiaries._

For the first time since May, Hermione felt a seed of hope growing in her heart - Ron, George, Charlie, Mcgonagall, and Kingsley were all _alive_. Tears formed in her eyes and she wrapped her arms tightly around Draco. “Thank you”, she whispered.

“I know you’re happy Hermione, but this is still a problem. The Death Eaters _know_ all of this just like I do. They’re in danger too... _not_ that I care but...you do”, he said truthfully. Hermione rolled her eyes at this.

Suddenly something clicked. “Draco...how long have you known they’re alive? Well, I suppose I should ask, how long has Voldemort known who the Incendiaries were?”, she asked him seriously, face growing pale.

“I’m not sure...at least since the Ministry bombing but other than that”, he shrugged, searching her eyes for understanding.

 _He’s known. Voldemort has known, and that’s why he’s kept me here._ A shiver crept through her nervous system.

“Draco, is it public knowledge that I am here? That Voldemort ‘has’ me?”, she asked fearfully.

“Yes it was…”, he hesitated, wheels turning in his head now. “It was broadcast on Halloween. Anyone in Europe would have seen it.”

“Including the Incendiaries...including the Weasleys. They know I’m here”, she said fearfully, breath catching. “Voldemort kept me to...to draw them out...oh God”

Hermione felt nauseous. The panic was spreading in her as she realized what exactly her purpose was. To bring in the rest of the resistance in hopes of a rescue and kill her. That had to be it. It was the only explanation. _I’m a lure. It's so obvious, how did I not figure this out?_

She swallowed heavily before looking at Amity and finding the Gryffindor courage that was so scarce these days. The courage that she needed more than ever. She met his eyes, no doubt in her mind what had to be done, “I need to speak to Voldemort.”


	63. Easier if she died

**Song** : Falling Down - Lil Peep, XXXTENTACION

“Absolutely _fucking_ not, Hermione! Have you lost your bloody mind?”, Draco shouted at Hermione as he chucked firewhiskey glasses, vases, books - anything he could get his hands on really - against the walls of his study. The room filled with the sound of shattering every which way.

“Just hear me out okay? Listen, I know that-”, she began before he cut her off angrily by slamming his fists down on the table.

“No, clearly you don’t know _anything_ \- you aren’t even thinking! How can you ask me to let you - no - _take_ you to the den of the head fucking snake? Do you truly think you’ll make it out alive?”, he was tugging at his hair now, having run out of things to break.

Hermione grabbed his hands, stilling him as best she could. “I have a plan. Please, Draco”, she practically begged. She knew this wouldn’t go down smoothly, but she also hadn’t expected such an outburst, and at least hoped for a chance to explain.

“Oh, _do_ tell”, he said with a huff.

Hermione squeezed her eyes together, trying to find the most convincing way to put it. “I trust you, do you trust me?” He nodded once in response, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped against the skin. “We know what he wants with me, so why not give it to him? Or at least, make him _think_ we’re giving it to him?”

“You may be smart but no one can fool him, Hermione. _Listen_ to yourself!”, he said, clenching his fists around her hands.

“No _you_ listen!”, Hermione said louder this time, losing her patience and tired of having no control. “I am _perfectly_ capable of fending for myself. I know more about that monster than you do Draco!”, she sneered at him.

He twisted his face up in confusion before laughing off her comment. “I know how to kill him”, she said in a serious tone, knowing exactly how valuable that information was. She never thought it would be useful with everyone gone, but everyone _wasn’t_ gone. Not only that, but Voldemort knew that she was just as much a threat as the Incendiaries because they _all_ knew how to end him. And she knew that he knew this.

So long as anyone alive knew his secret, his existence was threatened. And what’s the easiest way to get rid of a threat? Get them all in the same place and dispose of them simultaneously. Hence Hermione’s presence. She was certain that was his plan. He was too arrogant to be any more creative than that.

If poor Neville wouldn’t have missed Nagini’s throat, Harry might’ve succeeded. Regardless though, she refused to blame this on him. Poor Neville who, like many others, lost his life that day. So long as Hermione had any chance whatsoever to end Voldemort, she was doing a disservice to everyone who lost something in the war if she didn’t take advantage of it.

“How?”, Draco whispered, eyes intent on hers now.

“The snake”, she responded as she watched recognition flood into his stare. “The snake is a Horcrux. We kill the snake, we kill Voldemort.”

“So what? You think you’ll march in there and off him and the snake yourself?”, he asked incredulously.

“No! That would be like marching into my own funeral. Smartest witch of our age remember? Now shut up and listen to me”, she commanded without realizing. His mouth shut with a pop. She smirked. Maybe she didn't want to be rid of that mark...

“I’m a mudblood, so I can only go so far with this plan. _But_ , I’m confident this plan will get us further in a position where we can _act_ upon what we know. You said you trust me, tell me if that’s the truth”, she demanded.

“It is”, he responded briefly before shutting his mouth once again.

“Then show me”, she insisted.

~~~

 **Song** : Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

They were biding their time. This wasn’t a plan that could be rushed.

Hermione was just thanking Merlin that Draco was okay with her using Narcissa’s wand. He seemed more angry that he hadn’t considered it himself. In fact, he _insisted_ she start practicing with it immediately. It had been a long time since she cast so much as a glamour charm.

He left the next day for more work. He didn’t specify what for, but Hermione was content with the fact that it was probably better if she didn’t know. Anytime the Daily Prophet appeared with her breakfast and she saw even a glimpse of Draco’s face or name, she immediately got rid of it.

Today was not one of those days.

On November 14th, 1998, Ginevra Weasley was officially pronounced dead at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Hermione was mid-chew with Amity curled up in her lap when she read the headline:

**Potter’s Blood-Traitor Lover, Ginevra Weasley, Officially Dead**

By: Rita Skeeter

_Blood-traitor Ginny Weasley, ex-lover to the deceased Harry Potter, was officially pronounced dead late last night. Her death certificate was signed by Poppy Pomfrey, former nurse at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and current caretaker employed at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries._

_“Miss Weasley had been severely injured at the Battle of Hogwarts back in May while fighting for the resistance and was subsequently brought to St. Mungo’s for treatment”, Pomfrey states. “She was in terrible condition to begin with and had been weakening from the day she arrived, despite our best efforts. She was doomed from the moment she was struck by the Dark Lord that day. She’s lucky to have lasted this long.”_

_Inside sources tell us that Pomfrey was Weasley’s sole caretaker over the past months - other St. Mungo’s workers refused to treat her because of her past with the resistance against the Dark Lord. “I truly felt bad for the girl”, Pomfrey told the Daily Prophet, “it would’ve been easier if she died that day”._

Hermione raced to the bathroom, emptying her stomach painfully while she sobbed. She didn’t even make it to the toilet. She couldn’t breath. Couldn’t find air. She thought Ron was alive, then he was killed, but he was never dead. She had no idea what happened to the Weasleys, then found out George and Charlie had survived. Thought Ginny died at the Battle of Hogwarts. In fact, she could’ve _sworn_ she saw the life leave her eyes - but she had been alive the whole time. Until last night. _One step forward, two steps back. More like ten steps back._

Her stomach churned until she was dry heaving over the toilet. She gasped for air when it finally stopped. Amity circled her ankles comfortingly, clearly sensing her distress. She pulled the cat into her chest. “Oh God...Ginny...she...she...”, her voice wavered. Amity mewed in response. “Ginny”, she repeated in a whisper with a harsh sob.

She curled up in a ball, sobbing even harder with the cat against her chest, rubbing its face against hers. “I...I saw her get hit that day...I thought she...oh God. She w-wasn’t d-dead but now s-she-”, Hermione pulled at her hair stressfully, shaking the entire time. Her hands quivered and her face was swollen. Her head throbbed painfully.

An hour passed. Maybe two. Maybe twelve. She couldn’t be sure. By the time her head cleared, Amity hadn’t left her side. She sat up suddenly with a sharp inhale. Hermione felt motivation anew for what she needed to do. For the mission she was setting out on in regards to Voldemort. This was for everyone who was dead or alive - because at this point it seemed nothing was certain.

 _Easier if she died_ \- the newspaper quote lingered in her brain. “It won’t be easier for you, Voldemort. It would’ve been easier if _you_ died. And when I’m done, you’ll wish you had”, she whispered to herself.


	64. Plan to Win

**Song** : Lolita - Lana Del Rey

A week went by and Draco was still gone. Hermione hated it, but she wasn't surprised this time. She kept herself busy regardless.

The day Ginny died, she swept herself up, cleaned herself off, and made her way to dinner with determination.

"Good evening Miss Granger", Lucius greeted familiarly.

"Hermione", she corrected him boldly. She meant business, and she was _sick_ of the formalities.

"Well Hermione, I see you ignored my request about the muggle pants", he chuckled. Amity followed her the entire way, hopping into her lap when she sat.

"They're more functional. Now Lucius, I need to talk to you", she began, dark eyes firm on his.

"Who put gasoline in _your_ tea this morning? I haven't seen this side of you", he smirked, almost admiring her fire.

"I never thought you'd be the man I've come to know you as, Lucius. And forgive me if I'm being too blunt or 'forgetting my place' or anything like that. But we have a common goal, I'm sure. Unless I'm mistaken, you are no longer an _avid_ supporter of Voldemort. Correct?", Hermione pinched her legs nervously as she awaited his answer.

He nodded slightly - a gesture so small it could be missed. Hermione grinned.

"Alright. My opinions clearly haven't changed on him. What _has_ changed....well", she hesitated now, but knew it needed to be addressed. "I care about Draco", she said plainly. _There. Simple._

Lucius took a long sip of his wine before licking his lips and glancing in her direction. "Forgive me, Hermione - do you plan to tell me something I _don't_ know already?"

Her face heated. Lucius laughed wickedly, yet it was almost comforting.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to find her way back to her train of thought. "That being said, I don't want him to die. I don't want _you_ to die either, and life isn't certain for anyone under Voldemort's reign." Amity purred as if in agreement.

"You know, Hermione, you remind me very much of a young Narcissa. Ready to bring Hell upon anyone who threatens those she held dear. I only hope this time around I can offer the support needed", the man grimaced at his own past.

"I'm honored you see me that way...I hope this brings justice to Narcissa as well, I mean that. I know how to kill Voldemort, and I have a plan. Do you mean it when you say you want to offer support?", she asked seriously, blushing at the comparison to his late wife.

He nodded simply, more noticeable this time. "Follow up question - can you keep a secret from Draco?", she said nervously, hands wringing and sweating now.

Lucius smirked at her, chuckling slightly. "Now Hermione, I thought we knew each other much better these days", he said sarcastically. Playfully even.

"I need to learn Dark Magic, and I need you to teach it to me", she was eager. Knew it had to be done and that Draco wouldn't like it. Lucius tilted his head at her curiously but agreed. Her body flooded with adrenaline, shooting through her veins like a drug.

~~~

 **Song** : Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

The Dark Magic coursed through Hermione's body with a heavy hum as she shot spell after spell.

" _Mean_ it Hermione, you have to _mean it!_ ", Lucius shouted at her. Sweat was forming at her brow now, but the blind man with long blonde hair stood there calmly. Patiently.

He waved his wand at the test dummy in the dungeon and it transformed into a Voldemort-faced statue. "A little motivation?", he said quietly.

"Crucio!", Hermione shouted angrily over and over as light shot ruthlessly from the tip of her wand. "Incendio!", it burst into flames this time but Lucius recovered it. "Sectumsempra!", slices appeared over the faux-Voldemort's torso.

"Avada Kedavra", she growled and green light shot out of her wand. It was like it took her own life force from her. Exhausted her. But the dummy shot back into the wall and shattered into pieces.

"Well done", Lucius praised with a surprised expression. Hermione grinned. This wasn't the first time she had cast it, and it wouldn't be the last.

The sound of the floo upstairs came and they both froze. Hermione's breathing hitched in her throat. _Draco. He can't know..._

The dungeon door aggressively flew open, clanging against the wall behind it. Footsteps stormed quickly down the stairs. Had he heard them?

That beautiful, familiar, white hair appeared, but his wand was raised. He looked exhausted, _again._ "Expelliarmus!", Hermione yelled with a smirk as his wand flew into her hand. He grinned slightly and she bowed in response.

"Not so rusty after all", Hermione grinned at him with a gleam in her eyes. But then he turned his eyes on Lucius.

"What are _you_ doing here?", he asked in an irritated tone.

"He's helping me", Hermione said, stepping towards him.

"Helping you with _what_ exactly?", Draco asked accusingly before turning his eyes on the demolished dummy behind her. His expression grew cold. "Hermione...I'm going to ask you this _once_ "

"No, Draco, just-", she was cut off.

" _Hermione_ ", he growled, "Surely you're not doing what I think you're doing". His eyes were a stoney grey. His jaw clenched.

She bit her cheek. _No, you know what? I don't have to explain myself._ "If I'm not mistaken, you expressed that you didn't _want_ me to be a prisoner here. You _wanted_ me to practice magic for the plan!", she shouted angrily, clenching her fists as the tip of her wand sparked.

Draco stalked closer, narrowing his eyes, "Not Dark Magic, Hermione! Do you realize what-"

"YES! Of course I bloody realize what it does to someone! I don't _fucking_ care!", her breath was heavy now. She felt she could breathe fire in that moment like the dragon on her arm. "I have to be prepared, and we didn't win the first time around by avoiding Dark Magic. _You_ did, and you _won_ ", she said accusingly.

His expression softened with guilt. "I plan to win this time", she said in a tone of finality.

~~~

 **Song** : All Mine - PLAZA

They practiced for hours after that, Draco volunteering to duel her. It was riveting to use so much magic and Hermione loved it. They were both sweating by the end of it and Lucius had long departed.

Circling around each other, Draco shot a tripping jinx at Hermione’s feet before rushing behind her to pull her into his grip. In no time, he was behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist and holding her arms down. His other was at her throat with a _knife_. An eerily _familiar_ knife.

The blade dug into her throat slightly - enough to be uncomfortable without breaking the skin. “You need to be prepared for _anything_ , Hermione. Including situations like this”, he said raspily into her ear, sending chills down her spine.

Draco swiftly loosened his grip, flipping the blade in his hand and offering it to her. “I want you to have it”, he insisted.

“Where did you...how did you..?”, Hermione began, staring at the familiar blade as it glistened in the candlelight of the dungeon. Silver with a black handle - a B engraved into it. The same blade that carved "mudblood" into her arm. “B...for Bellatrix”, she stated.

“B for Black”, he corrected with a small smile. “I just hope you get the chance to use it on her”, he responded with dark eyes.

Hermione’s thoughts went to the worst places, and they were riveting. If she got the opportunity to kill Bellatrix, it sure as hell wouldn’t be an easy Avada Kedavra. She would make it _hurt_. She smiled up at him, leaning in to brush her lips against his. “That’s a bit dark, don’t you think?”, she teased, holding the tip of the blade up to his chin.

He grabbed her hips, swivelling them until her back was slammed against the wall. causing her to drop the blade. He stroked her arm where the dragon was. “Don’t act like you don’t want that, love. I can see it in your eyes. _Feel_ it even.”

His hip pressed into hers deliciously and she groaned, eyes fluttering. “I have a lot more for you to _feel_ than that”, she whispered seductively.

His eyes turned silver, glimmering in the low light and delving deep into hers. He began kissing her neck passionately, stroking her hair, and rubbing her through her pants. She did the same to him. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against the skin at her collarbone.

“Have no idea what it does to me seeing you so empowered like this”, he trailed off, moving lower and lower as he unbuttoned her pants. “So strong...there’s no one in this world like you Hermione Granger”, she shivered against his warm breath in contrast with the cold dungeon. It was reminiscent of the time he almost kissed her in that same room months ago, his eyes filled with the same flames they held now.

His lips were soft and burned her skin wonderfully. He nibbled at her hip bone before hooking his pinkies underneath her knickers and sliding them down, kissing his way down her legs the entire way.

“I love you”, he reminded her, looking up through his lashes from where he kneeled before her. “I’d do anything for you, you know that don’t you?”, it was a genuine question.

Hermione smiled down at him, her eyes glittering. “Look at us”, she chuckled. “Who would’ve thought?” He chuckled warmly against her skin and it warmed her entire body. His laugh was beautiful, gentle, light. She yearned to hear more of it.

“I love you, Draco. It’s you and me at the end of all this, I know it”, she stated, pulling his face up to meet hers. She met his lips gently, their tongues overlapping and tracing. Exploring. Memorizing. Admiring. They were entirely in sync.

“I want all of you Draco, please”, she gasped as one of his hands found their way to her breasts underneath her jumper, taunting her there, the other sliding between her legs.

“I wish I could give you all of me”, he responded, placing kisses along her jaw before sucking on her neck until it was sure to leave a mark.

“Stop holding back”, she said, a command without the intention of one. His eyes met hers again and he lost all control.

He unbuttoned his suit pants, sliding them down with his boxers as her hands unbuttoned his shirt, eagerly searching for any skin she could get her hands on. Draco slipped the sweater over her head and tossed it to the side, leaving them completely naked and vulnerable.

He scooped her up so her thighs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her against the cold wall. It was a glorious contrast. The tip of his cock found her entrance and gathered the moisture there. They both groaned at the contact, yearned for it above all. “For me?”, he raised an eyebrow at her teasingly. “Always. I’m yours and you’re mine”, she said, meeting his lips.

Both of their mouths opened in a groan as he slid into her until she had taken all of him.

“Shit”, he rasped against her ear, nuzzling it. Draco began a torturous pace, slowly moving himself in and out, not stopping each stroke until he was fully inside of her. Her walls clenched against him, singeing his entire body as a result. They both burned together. Like two flames becoming one.

They gasped over and over, muttering sweet nothings to each other, constantly reminding the other that they loved them and were theirs and theirs only. He moved one hand down to play with her clit and it was exactly what she needed.

“Oh! Draco...Oh God I’m-”, she cut herself off with a moan.

“Come for me. Only for me Hermione. I want to feel you”, he practically begged, sucking on her chest, neck, clavicle, jaw - anything his lips could find.

She screamed his name - full rapture taking over her body as she peaked, bringing him there as well. “Fucking...love you...Fuck!”, he grunted into her neck as he came.

“Mine...all mine…”, he muttered as they both came down.

Hermione’s left bicep began to heat tremendously and she whipped her head to it, immediately pulled away from their shared pleasure. The Sanguis Stigma. It was glowing bright red.

“Draco…”, she trailed off, unsure what was happening.

He looked up at her, still half-lidded and out of it from his finish. Still holding her close against his skin. Her hands flew to his chest when it began to glow red as well. Right under her fingers, a red dragon began to form there, on his left peck. Her eyes were lit up red as well from it and he stared into them in awe before looking down at his own dragon mark that had formed there.

Both marks began to dim but his dragon remained. His mark. They were both marked. But what did it mean? More questions yet again. _One step forward, ten steps back._


	65. A Seat at the Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know I said I wouldn't leave any warnings, but I think this chapter needs one - it's a bit...graphic. Just be warned. Hope you enjoy!

**Song** : Castle - Halsey

“My Lord”, Hermione said as she bowed her head and kneeled on the floor in front of him. The silence was painful in the room of Death Eaters, echoing in her ears. Her former schoolmates all had their jaws to the floor, Draco gritted his teeth visibly. She was just grateful Bellatrix wasn’t there...she would have skinned the bitch without hesitation.

“Oh, ‘my Lord’ now, is it? From the lips of a _mudblood_ at that”, his voice slithered into her ears, invading her senses in a slimy, nails-on-a-chalkboard type of way. An intruder in the chambers of her mind. The entire room laughed loudly, she smiled softly.

“While I _loathe_ my lack of pureblood genetics, I’ve come to my senses and thoroughly regret my contribution to the resistance pre-war. I’d like to formally apologize, my Lord, and offer my assistance”, she said, meeting a set of grim, red eyes. The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

Voldemort tilted his head curiously at her, sizing her up. “And what exactly do you have to... _offer?_ ”, he asked as Nagini circled her like prey. She didn’t budge, didn’t flitch, didn’t even blink. Her insides were screaming but her outsides gave away nothing.

“I believe that the Incendiaries are related to the former resistance members, and I know you need to be rid of them. Sooner rather than later. I want to serve you, my Lord”, she stated. She had to play dumb, as if she didn’t know that the Incendiaries _definitely_ were former resistance members. As if she didn’t know exactly who they were. But she couldn’t play too dumb, she had to make herself an asset. Indispensable.

“Doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out”, one Death Eater commented before muttering, “filthy fucking mudblood”. The entire table burst into laughter...everyone except Draco, Pansy, Daphne, and Blaise.

“True, yes...I suppose my question is - why? What has changed in the past seven months at Malfoy Manor that you suddenly have changed your allegiance? You’ve been no more than a prisoner...with very poor conditions at that”, the room snickered, remembering her torment on Halloween.

“I can’t complain about my treatment - I’m aware my blood purity is well below anyone here and my past called for it”, knives raked the words up past her throat and flung them off her tongue. “But, Fore-Minister Malfoy was gracious enough to offer access to the one thing that mattered most to me - books. Education. The library. I studied for months, _in detail_ , the history of wizardy. It’s clear to me now that the wizarding world is far superior to the rest of it. I was wrong”, she wanted to cough, to gag, to spit at his feet. But she progressed anyway. There were more important things than staying honest about your beliefs in moments like these.

Voldemort nodded, narrowing his eyes at her. “What is your offer then?”

“I can get them here. The Incendiaries. As one of the trio, I know I can draw them in. I believe that was your intention from the beginning - you are, after all, the greatest wizard of all time. I can get them here within the week. Of that I’m certain”, she stated confidently, eyes firm on his.

“Are you expecting to take the Dark Mark?”, he challenged. Her blood ran cold as ice, freezing in her veins and stalling her heart.

“If it is your will, my Lord, I would gladly do so”, she answered calmly. She fought the urge to flinch, to scream, to cry. _How’s this for acting, Draco?_

The entire room gasped at her response, but Voldemort flashed a set of small, decaying teeth. It was hideous, and wreaked of death as it flooded her nose.

“We’ve never had a mudblood with a Dark Mark...I’m afraid I can’t stoop that low, my dear, but I’m flattered by your... _enlightenment_ ”, he stated, toying with his frigid fingers. “ _However_ , I want proof of your allegiance...I’m sure you understand”

She couldn’t breathe...wasn’t sure she ever would again. _What could he possibly want me to do?_

“Warbeck!”, Voldemort shouted towards the door and a young Death Eater entered, _very_ young. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Hermione imagined the nervous boy in his third year at Hogwarts before the bombing...she quickly wiped the sweat from her brow. _No weakness. Don’t have it, don’t show it._

“Kill him”, Voldemort commanded. Hermione stared in shock, pupils blown wide and heart thudding in her ears.

“My Lord, I would...but I don’t have a wand”, she tried to excuse. He nodded in understanding.

“Ah ah ah, I can't trust you with a wand yet. Will a steak knife do? Or would you prefer a _fork_?”, he asked, causing everyone to erupt in laughter. Her hand ached at the memory. She had a scar there now as well.

She nodded in agreement before turning to the boy. He was visibly shaking. His green eyes and dark hair reminded her so much of Harry, it made her nauseous. He was a _child_. But this was for Harry. For Neville. For Narcissa. For Ginny. For countless others. This was the only way. _Right?_

Hermione watched him take a few steps back, but she was prepared for that. _Don’t think, just do._ She waved her hands and ropes appeared out of thin air, binding him to the floor by his elbows and knees. He looked absolutely petrified, tears already forming in his eyes, skin reddening from the ropes.

The entire room gasped at her wandless magic. Oh, she had been practicing. And she quickly found she was much more powerful than she knew. She cast a quick glance at Lucius although she knew he couldn’t see her. She had him to thank for her new trick.

Voldemort smirked and chuckled - a gravelly, repulsive sound. “Interesting...very interesting”, he commented.

Hermione took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and willed herself to find the strength to do what had to be done. She opened them with deadly intent. Even Draco looked nervous. She strode to the table where all the Death Eaters sat and picked up a large, serrated steak knife.

Her eyes turned to the boy, but he went out of focus. Just a figure. No face. No green eyes. No dark hair. She walked up to him and swiftly plunged the knife into his stomach. The boy screamed, his voice cracking, tears filling his eyes. She ignored it.

Moving higher, she stabbed him in the chest - right in the center. _Almost done Hermione. It’s a show. You have to make it a show._ And then she remembered Draco’s method - all the bloody photos she had seen. _That’ll do it. That’ll be enough._

She rose from where she had kneeled in front of the boy and walked around behind him. Placing a delicate hand on his cheek, standing where all the shocked faces could get a clear view, she pushed the knife sideways into the boys neck and sliced into it until blood splattered everywhere, coloring her face and clothes like paint. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and casting a quick spell on the boy so he would simply pass out as he bled to death. It would simply appear he went into shock.

She wanted to do it before, but she needed him to scream, or they would’ve known something was wrong. But she couldn’t get past what she had done. Her heart pounded, threatening to jump straight out of her chest. Her eyes were dark, her body felt heavy, but her veins were thrumming with power. She risked a glance to Draco, he looked...she wasn’t sure. He looked horrified, turned on, impressed, surprised, disappointed. If there was a description of it, it fit. It was utterly unreadable, as if he was flickering through his own feelings and trying to determine one that fit.

Hermione scanned the rest of the table, finding variations of shock and laughter. Finally, her eyes met Voldemort’s. He laughed _viciously_ , clapping his hands in amusement.

“Looks like you’ve learned a _lot_ while at Malfoy Manor”, he remarked, “including ruthlessness. Well done, Draco. And well done my dear. I never thought I’d see the day a Gryffindor from the Golden Trio killed an innocent without hesitation under my command.”

Hermione grinned at him. _I did it. I fucking did it. I killed a child...I fucking fooled Voldemort...but I killed a child to do it._ She wasn’t a legilimens or occlumens, but she tried her best to push it to the side. _Sacrifices had to be made. They had to be._

“Congratulations Miss Granger, I believe you’ve earned a seat at the table”


	66. I Promise

**Song** : Burning Pile - Mother Mother

 **A/N** : This chapter is devoted to my best friend in the world and my beta reader <3 You know who you are babes, I literally couldn't do this without you - enjoy the song choice for the second part of this chapter hehe

~~~

Static filled the wizarding stream across the globe, sending shockwaves through homes of every magical being. Witches and wizards everywhere stopped what they were doing immediately.

“A message from the Dark Lord?”, a wizard in Poland asked his wife.

“Merlin's ballsack...is there not a way to turn this bloody thing off?”, a witch in India complained. “I’ve never met a wizard as _fucking_ _egotistical_ as this man. Just likes to hear himself talk”, she rolled her eyes.

“Shhhhh! Fembley, be quiet - the Dark Lord is broadcasting something!”, a French witch told her boyfriend in excitement.

“Great. Another show of executions, or is this a sequel to his psychotic public torture of that poor muggle-born girl?”, an Irish wizard said sarcastically.

The static cleared to reveal a young girl - likely 17 or 18 years of age. A witch. Her deep brown eyes looked panicked and her words and mannerisms were hectic and rushed.

The girl’s breathing was heavy in the ears of viewers and her hair was slightly frazzled. “I don’t have m-much time”, she stuttered as she spoke to them. “My name is Hermione Granger and I was a member of the resistance in the war. I’ve been a prisoner here since May.”, her hands were shaking as she glanced around behind her as if waiting for an attack at any moment.

“I need h-help. P-please. _Anyone_. If you’re out there Ron, I miss you. I need you”, she bit her cheeks stressfully. I’m at the _house of the ferret_ ”, she stated as if it were code.

Hermione knew only a select few people, if alive, would understand what she meant. “To the Incendiaries - I know what you’re doing. But coming from the inside, _please_ be careful. Whatever you do, _don’t come storming into London._ I’ll find a way out, just don’t risk your lives to help me, _please_. I may be a lost cause, but I needed to speak to you one last time. I love you Ron.”

That was the last thing she said before a set of large, pale hands grabbed her by the collar, yanking her backwards and flashing a head of white hair before the broadcast returned to static.

Hermione sighed, clearing her throat and putting her mask back on. Turning to face Voldemort with a serious expression, she stated, “They’ll take the bait, I’m sure of it. They most likely have a few people already on their way to London by now.”

Her voice was even but her insides quaked with fear and nervousness. She was questioning this plan. Questioning _her_ plan. What would she do if it all went up in flames? She’d never forgive herself if anyone she loved got hurt, but she needed back-up. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. She had already killed an innocent and placed the bait for her old friends.

Little did Voldemort know she’d still be on their side. She was putting on quite the performance if she did say so herself.

Draco’s jaw clicked with tension - a tell-tale sign of his anxiety manifesting itself visibly. Voldemort didn’t notice, but Hermione did. Even if she didn’t see it, she could _feel_ his distress, and she was almost certain he could feel hers. Their connection was stronger somehow these days. It started when his dragon mark appeared on his chest, which he continued to hide carefully from anyone but her.

Hermione wore all black now, which was reminiscent of the days when she first got the Sanguis Stigma. Except now, although unmarked, she was dressed this way as a Death Eater. A poser. A fake. She wore a black, silk, button-up top with matching pants and robes. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was sure to hide her new uniform in the broadcast, avoiding giving anything away or giving the wrong impression to the Incendiaries.

Voldemort clapped slowly, flashing that repulsive smile that could rot corpses. “Well done, Hermione” It was poisonous to her hearing - him saying her name. As if someone poured acid into her ear drums, letting it sizzle and seep in.

“Thank you, my Lord”, she said with a bow of her head. Draco clicked his jaw again. She could practically feel his thoughts. _I hate this. I hate this. I hate this._ She knew what he hated - feeling as if he had no control. Her being here. The plan. All of it.

~~~

 **Song** : Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

While the Daily Prophet didn’t comment on Hermione’s broadcast, which was more than predictable, the streets of London filled with gossip. Word was spreading like wildfire. Any wizard or witch who missed the broadcast heard about it before long.

The Dark Territories were concerned - why was the Dark Lord holding a mudblood prisoner? Other countries were outraged he had held an innocent witch hostage. Things were heating up quickly like a crucible just waiting to tip over.

But this was a part of her plan. Make everyone question him - even those who supported Voldemort. Everything was falling into place - like pieces of a puzzle. Just as she predicted. Maybe she wasn’t so poor at divination after all...Hermione smirked at the thought, but Draco stared at her with concern.

“Hermione…”, he began from where he sat by his fireplace, staring at her as she stood on the balcony, admiring the property that was covered in snow. She turned her head to look at him, pulling away from her thoughts. _Retribution is just around the corner…_

She strode towards him with a smirk. She was different these days and Draco didn’t know how to feel about it. She was becoming more like him, and he didn’t want that. _At all._ Visions of her killing Warbeck in the same fashion that he executed people...they haunted his dreams every night.

Hermione climbed onto his lap slowly, straddling his legs in her uniform. She looked... _powerful._ He loved seeing her so confident. So head-strong. So bold. _Transcendent. Bewitching. Addictive. A rose in a garden of weeds…_

“Yes?”, she purred into his ear, running her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his back. He closed his eyes, taking in the sensation.

“I’m worried about you, love”, he stated quietly. Her hands froze in their tracks. She quirked an eyebrow in question. “This...this isn’t you”, Draco said, gesturing to her all black clothing that matched his. Her _Death Eater_ uniform. Nothing made sense anymore. Not since his mother died.

She leaned back slightly but remained in his lap, hands resting delicately on his shoulders. Hermione nodded her head slightly before turning her eyes on his. “This _is_ me. It just took tremendous loss for me to get my ass up and take control”, she said darkly. He knew she was right, and he loved her the more for it. For being so clever, but it still was concerning. He wanted to protect her.

“I don’t _need_ you to protect me”, she seethed, sensing his thoughts. “I need you. I love you. But I can protect _myself_. In fact, I don’t need protecting at all.” She ticked her jaw now, much like him, feeling defensive.

“I know you don’t, does that mean I can’t worry?”, he asked, brushing curls behind her ear and resting his palm on her cheek.

“It means you _shouldn’t_ worry”, she placed a delicate kiss on his lips, reveling in his warmth. “You trust me, and I trust you. As long as we have each other, that’s all we need.”

He nodded against her, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her flush to him - chest to chest. “I’d do anything for you Hermione. You don’t have to command me, and I don’t have to command you. Just ask. Anything and it’s yours”, he whispered into her ear.

She pulled back, resting her forehead on his. “Draco...I need...I need you to kill him”, she said. It was like a blow to the chest. Saying these words out loud. They both knew someone had to do it.

“What if I can’t? Potter wasn’t successful. What if we kill the snake and still can’t kill him? Of course I’ll die trying if that’s what it takes but...”, he asked genuinely, searching her eyes.

She swallowed roughly, gathering the strength to share her thoughts - her recent realizations. “He has the Elder Wand”, she stated. Factual.

Draco nodded, “that’s why I’m concerned.”

“Well...I did some research”, she began. “Of course you did”, he smirked at her, placing heated kisses along her collarbone and causing her to gasp between her words.

“What if _killing_ the owner of the Elder Wand isn’t the way to claim it?”, he froze in his tracks at her words, pulling back to stare at her with a shocked expression.

“I’ve...done some research and...it’s led me to believe you have to _disarm_ them for it to work. Who last disarmed Dumbledore?”, she asked genuinely.

Draco swallowed heavily, realization sinking in. “Me”, he whispered as his eyes wandered the room.

She placed her hands on his cheeks, turning his head softly to look at her. “Has anyone disarmed you since then? _Anyone?_ I only vaguely remember that night when...Bellatrix...anyway”, she cleared her throat. “Did Harry? Ron? Anyone?”

He shook his head softly. He was nervous now. _Do I possess the Elder Wand? Is it mine?_

“I think that’s part of the reason Harry lost”, she stated seriously. “Aside from Nagini, Voldemort had the Elder Wand, even if he didn’t _possess_ it, it would still be stronger than Harry. But...he hasn’t used it on you, correct?”

Draco shook his head again. “Tortured me a few times but nothing…”, he trailed off.

“Lethal”, Hermione finished for him. Their eyes connected in realization, excitement growing. “Draco...you could kill him. If we kill the snake, you could end this. You can kill Voldemort”

Their breathing was heavy and it was like the thread between them snapped. They attacked each other's lips feverishly, molding and meshing with each other.

Hermione slid her robes down her arms as Draco began to unbutton her shirt, attaching his lips to the top of her breast when it was finally exposed. He sucked viciously until a red circle formed there and he moved to create another. Her head dropped back as a moan escaped her lips.

He continued until her shirt was gone and he was unhooking her bra. She followed his lead, unbuttoning his shirt as well. She stopped when a hum ran through her body. They froze. Her hand on his chest, over his mark. His hand over the mark on her arm. The marks glowed again. They had no idea what it meant, but the connection excited them wildly, driving their eagerness and igniting the flame.

She slid back off of his lap to stand. Removing her pants and knickers as he moved to do the same, slipping off his shoes, trousers, and boxers. His belt made a delicious clink when it slid from the loops.

She took his hand, leading him this time, and pushed him back on the bed. She climbed on top of him slowly to straddle his hips, meeting his lips again as she aligned him with her core. They groaned into each other’s mouths.

“I love you”, they said in a unison, and a chill swept across their bodies, like flipping an electric switch - the voltage spreading rapidly. Hermione finally slid down onto him, slowly, taking her time as her walls wrapped around him tightly.

She gasped as she lowered herself, raised up, and repeated the movement slowly. Draco placed his hands on her hips before snapping his into her, filling her completely. “Fuck…”, he groaned, taking her over and over again. He could never get enough. She couldn’t either. They were each other’s drug. Each other’s gasoline. Each other’s match. One strike was all it took and they were engulfed in flames together.

He flipped over on top of her, pulling one of her legs up to rest over his shoulder so he could change the angle. She gasped at how deep he reached now, moaning his name over and over until her voice was hoarse.

“Promise me”, she begged as he drove into her repeatedly, sweat forming on their bodies.

“Anything”, he answered with heavy breaths, struggling to choose a focal point between her face, her body, and where they were joined.

“Promise me we’ll win”, she was gasping with pleasure as the euphoria climbed higher and higher up her spine. “We have to win”, she said, grabbing his face and pulling him to her so she could capture his lips. Claim them. “It’s the only option”

His eyes darkened to a steel-grey. “I promise”, he said as they both climaxed, bodies slick with moisture and brains fried from the overwhelming pleasure. The dragons glowed. Together. As one. Solidifying their connection, solidifying his promise.


	67. A Common Goal

**Song** : Hallucinations - PVRIS

 **A/N** : Fair warning there may be a small ship in this one - it’s innocent. Idk, it felt right when I was writing it so don’t hate on me lol.

~~~

“You all heard her! She needs _fucking help!_ Am I the only bloody person that has ears around here?”, Ron asked hysterically, his voice hoarse from yelling at the group.

“We mustn't rush into anything and make a grave mistake Ronald! Listen to yourself!”, McGonagall argued.

“She’s right, Weasley”, Kingsley added, “Think about what’s best for the movement. This could be a trap and rushing in after Miss Granger could be detrimental.”

Ron tossed chairs, papers, and quills around the small room. Charlie and George sat silently at the table with the rest of them, observing. They understood their brother’s panic - he loved Hermione. It was more than a simple rescue mission he was after. He hadn’t even known she was alive until Halloween, and now, he knew where to find her. It didn't help that they were all on edge about Ginny.

“You all would be on board if it were Harry!”, Ron shouted, face turning red. A hush fell over the room at his words. “She’s an asset. She’s _important._ ”, he said in a lower tone now.

“My word is final. We wait until we have more information from our connections”, Kingsley stated simply, eyes stern on Ron’s.

“And who are your _connections_ exactly? They haven’t given us anything useful so far!”, his voice raised again. Everyone stared except McGonagall, who averted her eyes. “First Ginny disappears and now this? How many bloody people are we going to throw to the dogs to fend for themselves?” Steam practically shot out of his ears.

Ron had had enough and he huffed heavily and cursed as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Run along dears...Kingsley and I need to discuss some things”, McGonagall said when George and Charlie awaited instruction. They nodded briefly, apologizing for Ron’s behavior and taking up for him before departing the room.

Minerva locked the door and cast a silencing charm before speaking. “I heard from Lucius. He says Ginny got there safely”

“Good. Good. I never doubted it. Anything about Miss Granger?”, he asked the woman.

“Not much, she's alive that's all that matters. We just need to be ready to move in at any moment, but not until he tells us exactly when. We can’t mess this up, this is our chance Kingsley”, she said with hope filling her ocean-blue eyes.

The tall man nodded in response, his kind brown eyes bore into hers as he took her hand, placing a kiss there. “I know Minerva, it will be alright. I’m sure of it”, he assured her.

“My only concern is...well I have many of course”, the woman laughed softly, “Charlie insists that...well”

“What is it Minerva?”, he said, rubbing her palm softly to comfort her.

“At the bombing of Hogwarts...Charlie was there, I’m sure you remember. He says that…”, she gulped heavily, “that it was Draco Malfoy.” Her heart felt heavy with regret for the boy she taught from age 11. She watched him go from an innocent, arrogant little boy, to a terrified young man trying to protect his family, to a ruthless executioner.

~~~

“And what exactly did they say when they owled you back?”, the redhead asked with her hands firm on her hips.

“They didn’t”, the arrogant blonde said, not even facing her as he reclined in his chair.

“They _didn’t?_ Then how do you know they got the message?”, she asked in a frenzied voice.

“I know they did. My owl is reliable”, he assured her calmly. She despised the man with every fiber of her being. Hated being in this house. Being anywhere _near_ this man really. But it was all worth it for the sake of Hermione.

“Well _forgive me_ if I’m not eager to trust you, Mr. Malfoy”, she practically spat at him.

“Ginevra...may I call you Ginevra?”, Lucius asked with a smirk.

“No”, she said simply, narrowing her eyes at him despite the fact that he was blind. She wanted nothing more than to off the man right then and there while his guard was down.

Lucius laughed again, shaking his head. “We have a common goal, Miss Weasley. Rest assured, I want Voldemort as dead as you do if not more.”

Ginny laughed spitefully at this, “Right. That would be the day. So what’s the plan then?”

“How exactly do you think you’re going to be involved in this? You’re clearly under the impression you’ll be on the front lines”, he responded with a chuckle.

“Under the _impression?_ I _will_ be on the front lines. In fact, I’d love nothing more than to end that fucker myself”, she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to fight me for that honor”, he responded with a sly smile, taking a sip of his drink. “It’ll throw Hermione off if she knows you’re here. You realize that don’t you? She’s in the right headspace to bring us all to the point where we can finish this.”

Ginny was angry. Because he was right. She had never seen Hermione with such determination...she was ruthless. Unrecognizable. She was proud of her best friend, and she didn’t want to ruin it. Honestly, at this point, she believed Hermione deserved the right more than anyone, but she knew the plan was for Draco to do it. She just wasn’t sure why.

“Regardless”, she said, shaking her head at the man, “What's the plan? I still need to know what’s going on”

“I suppose you’re right”, he said twirling the ice in his glass. His other hand held the snake-headed staff. It was strange the way he never even put it down, and Ginny was overtly aware of it.

“We have to do this right or it will all go up in flames, you understand?”, his tone turned serious. Ginny nodded in response. “Hermione’s _reference_ clearly indicated she’s here at Malfoy Manor. Meaning, this is where the Incendiaries will show up. The key is going to be getting them here and alerting the Dark Lord that they are _on their way_. We have to catch him off guard. There are a thousand ways this can go wrong, alright?”

“Yes, yes, I fucking understand. This isn’t my first run-in with the cunt”, Ginny scoffed. “Get on with it.”

Lucius rolled his pale eyes at the girl. And he thought _Hermione_ was feisty. That was nothing compared to this Weasley girl. “They need to be here lying in wait. There will be no time for reunions and hugs and all that ridiculousness. It needs to be quick. We must strike while the iron is hot. I’m thinking three days time would be optimal. Any longer and it will appear to the Dark Lord that the Incendiaries haven’t taken the bait.”

Ginny nodded in understanding. _Right again._


	68. Names

**Song** : House of the Rising Sun - Joni Mitchell

Yaxley was knocked out cold as Draco apparated him to the manor before anyone could see. It wasn’t hard to do. Despite his blatant ignorance, Yaxley had never been a very skilled wizard.

His mouth hung open, drool falling out of it. Draco scowled at him. “Bloody oaf”, he muttered to himself as he pushed the door to Lucius's study open. Hermione immediately rose from her chair, turning to face him with Amity held tightly in her arms. Lucius didn’t flinch.

He dropped Yaxley’s body to the floor with a flick of his wand, effectively waking the man. Yaxley recoiled in shock, searching his pockets for a wand he wouldn’t find. “Ah ah ah”, Draco said with an evil smirk. “Let’s not make this difficult. We have questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

“What the bloody hell is going on?”, Yaxley shouted, looking around frantically for an escape.

“First of all, what the _fuck_ is _this?_ ”, Draco said, ripping his shirt open to reveal the dragon on his chest and effectively popping multiple buttons off of it in the process. They fell to the ground, rolling in various directions as Amity chased them playfully.

Yaxley’s eyes went wide with fear and he gulped heavily, gritting his teeth.

Draco shoved the tip of his wand tightly against the man’s throat, “I _said_ , what the fuck is this? Don’t make me repeat myself _again_ ”, his voice was like steel, smooth and even, but unyielding.

Yaxley tilted his head slowly towards the blonde, a scowl on his face. “Sod off”, he spat. In no time, Draco’s fist made contact with Yaxley’s face, emitting a loud CRACK so loud that Hermione cringed at the noise.

That was when Hermione stepped in. Blood poured from the man’s mouth and she waved a hand to bind him. _No more wasting time._

“Stand up”, Hermione commanded with malice in her voice. He didn’t move.

She flicked her wand towards him and his humerus snapped, causing him to let out a thunderous roar in pain. Draco’s eyes went wide at her but she didn’t care. “Do it, before I take away your _ability_ to do so”, she stated calmly.

Yaxley stood shakily, blood running down his shirt now, his upper left arm jutting out in an unnatural angle. He winced heavily and looked lightheaded, wavering on his feet.

Lucius rose from his chair and slowly made his way over to the man as Hermione and Draco stepped out of his way. He rolled his sleeves up ever so precisely, creasing them to stay out of his way.

Staff still in his hand, he placed the index and middle fingers of each hand on either side of Yaxley’s temples. “Legilimens”, he whispered eerily, leaving Draco and Hermione to simply watch and wait.

Yaxley screamed in pain as Lucius spared no corner of his mind unsearched, making the process as ruthless as possible. It filled the room but Amity continued to play with Draco’s discarded shirt buttons as if this was all normal.

After what felt like hours, Lucius pulled back and Yaxley collapsed on the floor.

Lucius readjusted his sleeves calmly before turning to face Hermione and Draco.

“Well? Get on with it!”, Draco was losing his patience, though Hermione wasn’t sure he had any to start with. But she felt exactly the same, she just wasn’t going to speak to Lucius that way.

Lucius cleared his throat, taking his time to walk back to his seat and make himself comfortable before beginning with a smirk. “This... _Sanguis Stigma_...he combined them from various other versions, all originating in different languages, countries, time periods, etcetera”

“And? We know this already!”, Draco shouted again but Hermione laced her fingers through his, stroking the top of his hand with her thumb soothingly. _Calm down_ she urged in her head, and he somehow received her unspoken message, letting his shoulders relax.

“ _As_ _I was saying_ ”, Lucius jumped back in, sipping his firewhiskey. _Like father, like son_ , Hermione thought to herself.

“It cannot be undone. Not without death. His version was created to avoid slaves breaking the bond. Quite humorous considering it didn’t work with anyone else”, the man chuckled.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other in surprise. “What do you mean...'it didn’t work'?”, Hermione questioned.

“What he failed to realize is that his _hodgepodge_ of a spell requires those being bound to be _magically harmonious_ ”, the man clarified. “You two apparently were the only ones it worked on...clearly the Dark Lord doesn’t know that”, he snickered viciously.

Hermione’s mind was doing cartwheels at that point. _Magically harmonious?_ She looked at Draco, trying to decipher if he knew what that meant. He turned to her, answering her unspoken question. “It’s...it means…”, he hesitated.

“It means my son should listen to what I tell him in the future”, Lucius laughed heartily. _What? Am I missing something?_

The marriage comment - from Halloween. Draco clenched his fist, holding Hermione’s hand still with his other. He used his free hand to chuck a book off the shelf at his father, only for the man to catch it. Hermione gasped. _What the??? Is he even blind???_

“Narcissa and I were _magically harmonious_ ”, he smirked, placing the book down on his desk. Hermione’s cheeks heated at his comment. She was no longer sure she wanted to know. “It means your magic is in tune with one another. It’s an ancient wizarding phenomenon - very rare these days. Your magic feeds off of one another. It’s stronger when you’re together. It often feels like electricity filling your veins, at least in my experience” It all made sense, yet it was still so strange to Hermione. This is what it was like being muggle-born, not knowing things like this.

“What else did you find out?”, she asked, trying her best to change the subject. Draco clearly didn’t want to discuss it and Lucius was happy to egg him on. They would get nowhere this way.

“Clearly his research wasn’t thorough enough. However, the mark that appeared on Draco, that was…”, he hesitated. He appeared to be holding back yet another laugh. _Is everything funny to him?_

“It’s because you completed the bond with a...pairing ritual”, he said, tilting his head slightly, suggestively.

Hermione thought she was going to die of embarrassment. _Oh my God._

Draco tensed to her left. “It’s that simple? I mean that wasn’t…” he trailed off. “Wasn’t the first time…”, Draco muttered with his eyes down, flickering to Hermione briefly.

“Yes, I’m _sure_ ”, Lucius responded. Hermione’s face heated even more, she was sure she was going to combust at any moment. “That’s because it was simply intercourse before that. Let’s just say...I hope you have some names picked out that sound good with ‘Malfoy’”, he stated, sipping his drink casually as if he hadn’t said what he just said.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she squeezed Draco's hand in hopes he could prevent her from collapsing on the floor. Surely he didn’t mean…

Draco swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was practically shaking. He swore he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

They both jerked out of the way when Yaxley was suddenly off the floor and lunging, pulling them away from the trance they had been in. But that wasn’t all.

Amity sprung from the floor towards him, twirling in the air until a fiery head of red hair emerged, not stopping until there was a girl about Hermione’s age there. “Avada Kedavra!”, the girl shouted, green light shooting out of her wand and connecting with Yaxley’s back. He hit the floor with a loud thud.

Everything was blurry and Hermione’s breath struggled in her lungs. Her heart was racing from Yaxley’s attack, but that wasn’t what she was concerned about.

Ginny. Ginny was the cat, and now she was Ginny. Amity was Ginny, and vise versa.

Hermione launched herself into the girls arms, moving her hands rapidly along her shoulders and hair as if trying to convince herself she was real. Both girls weeped heavily into each other.

“Oh God...Ginny...are you really here?”, Hermione asked with a shaky voice, not much more than a whisper.

Ginny nodded eagerly into Hermione’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Hermione, I wanted to tell you but it was too dangerous. But I’ve been here the whole time, I promise”

“You were...you were Amity...you were a cat?”, Hermione said between sobs.

“McGonagall taught me a few tricks”, Ginny replied, both chuckling. “Now...I know I’ve been a cat for a while, so maybe my hearing has gone screwy, but please tell me I heard him incorrectly when he said you’re pregnant”


	69. Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you've made it this far...ily and thank you for reading. As I'm sure you can tell, things are wrapping up and there will only be about 3 more chapters give or take. I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I love writing it and please comment! It makes my day - don't be a ghost reader! :)

**Song** : almost home - mxmtoon

Draco caressed her face delicately, like she would shatter if he wasn’t gentle. Hermione wasn’t something that could break, and she hated him being this way. If she was, she would’ve broken long ago.

“Are you okay?”, he asked her for what felt like the millionth time since they left Lucius’s study.

“Yes”, she assured, nodding with a grimace. She was pregnant. Not a centuries old vase on the edge of a table. And she was barely pregnant at that. They wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for Lucius’s investigative legilimency.

Hermione sighed heavily, sinking into one of the chairs by his fireplace and drawing her knees into her chest nervously. She _was_ fine. Nervous of course, but she really didn’t want him to crowd her obsessively any more than he already was. It only stressed her out.

Even then, he had followed her to her seat, standing behind and wrapping his arms around her protectively. He placed a few kisses to her cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that prickled across her skin.

She could sense his restraint. He wanted to say something, and it was as palpable as his skin against hers. “What’s wrong?”, she asked on yet another heavy exhale.

“Nothing”, he said. Clipped. Brief. Untrue. They both knew it. Draco’s voice even shot up a few octaves - which it never did. He wasn’t even trying to conceal it.

“Say it”, she commanded. He huffed in her ear, frustrated with her use of the bond.

“I’m worried about you”, he responded.

“And?”, she pushed further. _Obviously there’s more._

“And...what do you want to do?”, he asked genuinely, quietly. As if he were trying to calm a wild animal.

“Meaning?”, she craned her neck to glance at him behind her.

“Meaning what do you want to do? About the... _pregnancy_ ”, he had a strange flicker in his tone on the last word. What was it...distaste? Discomfort? They were young, and still on the fresh side of loving confessions. It was intimidating, really. But she couldn’t decipher his true feelings towards the matter.

She felt somewhat indifferent, as if it was the least of her worries. In all reality, it was. She was preparing to help her boyfriend murder Voldemort. The one thing Harry failed at. Taxing was not a heavy enough term to describe the situation. And what was worse, they had no idea when this would be.

Hermione was horrified for a number of reasons - all of which would cumulatively exceed the average parchment length. The trap she set for the Incendiaries, that wasn’t really a trap, but could end up that way if things went awry. There was so much uncertainty with that topic alone. And now - a child. A fetus. A fertilized egg at most. Completely new. And Draco was up-ended about it.

She would’ve been freaking out had this happened 6 months ago, but it was like her mind was blocking it. On hold for processing at a later date when she wasn’t overwhelmed with the only two potential outcomes that awaited them - they win or they lose. There was no in between. Compromise didn’t exist, and even if it did, this wasn’t the type of thing you could compromise on whatsoever.

“Do as in-?”, a sudden thought invaded her mind and her blood ran cold. “Oh my God”. At first she was saddened and disappointed, but on second thought she was furious and jumped out of her chair, gripping her wand tightly out of instinct. “You don’t want to have it because it won’t be a pureblood!”, she shouted defensively. It wasn’t a question, it was an assumption - an assertion.

Draco’s expression flickered between confusion and anger. “ _What?_ ”, he asked incredulously, his jaw hitting the floor. Surely she was joking...after all he had admitted to her? She really thought that?

“Hermione, no! _Merlin_ no...I’m...you really think that? You really think I still...I never…”, he couldn’t find the right words, shaking his head in disbelief. He was baffled, and his heart ached with the fear that she truly saw him in such a light.

“You never _what_? Considered that shagging me relentlessly could result in a _bastard child_?”, her fists were clenched at her sides and her face heated. She was certain steam was emitting from her ears.

He rushed to her side, horrified that she was so quick to assume the worst of him. Draco tried pulling her into his arms but she shoved his chests with all her strength. He grabbed her cheeks slightly more firm than was necessary, “ _listen to me_ ”, her blood boiled at his command but her knees wobbled slightly when his eyes darkened. He was distractingly attractive and she couldn't adapt to it. Every time she looked at him was like the first time.

But she had no choice - not to mention she had used the bond on him lately too, and she couldn’t be a hypocrite about it.

“I’ve never truly believed all that _pureblood supremacy_ bullshit.I suppose now would be a good time to clarify such, though there isn’t much good it will do at this point. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it for the rest of my life, _I’m so sorry_ Hermione _._ My father did. My mother didn’t, but I put on a front for it all the same”, he sighed heavily as she fell into his arms, her eyes softening. Hermione felt awful. It was an overreaction, she was aware, but she couldn’t help her initial reaction. It wasn’t as though it was groundless.

“So you called me slurs my entire life because...”, she began sarcastically, teasing him. She was over it. He was a child then, influenced by his parents. He could only be held responsible to an extent when he was just reiterating what his father taught him to be “right” and “true”. It didn’t excuse the behavior by any means, but she had been over it for a while now.

His eyes were almost hollow with regret but she quickly assured him she was kidding. The relief on his face was exaggerated when he finally released the breath he had been holding.

Draco buried his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent. He could pick it out of a lineup at this point, and reveled in that. Roses and libraries. Parchment and flowers. Whichever way you put it, it was subtle but breathtaking, and he’d gladly trade it for oxygen any day.

“I just want to…”, he began but altered his word choice before proceeding. “You mean the world to me, you’re everything, and I want to do what you want to do. I saw your face when my father said what he said - which definitely could’ve been communicated more clearly and _less_ _sarcastically_ if you ask me”

“Hm...that reminds me of someone”, she joked. He exhaled a small laugh and it had bumps rising all over her skin where it grazed.

Draco pulled back to look at her, eyes practically impaling her with the way he studied them. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. _Fragile and breakable._

“This isn’t just up to me, you know”, she told him, looking up through her lashes.

“It’s your body. I’ll support whatever you choose. But you should know, the only thing that would make me happier than being with you is having a family with you. I don’t need it per se, but if not with you I never will. You’re all I want. If you wanted Mars I’d want it just as badly even if only for you. Obviously that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want it myself as well I just-”, Hermione cut him off with a deep kiss, plunging into his mouth with intensity before pulling back slightly.

“You’re rambling”, she smirked against his lips, fingers clinging to the collar of his ripped shirt.

“That reminds me of someone”, he chuckled, throwing her words back at her.

“Draco Malfoy. I will gladly have your children so long as you cease treating me like a _snowflake_ , I’m not going to melt or disappear from too much heat”, her eyes darkened on his, really hammering home the message with a blatant double meaning.

He grinned slyly, “How many?”, he joked with her.

“I thought Malfoy’s only had one ‘heir’”, she said, prodding him in the chest with her index finger but he gripped her wrists and pulled him into her, placing a hand on her lower back so she arched against his chest.

“A tradition, not a requirement. Besides, how can I be expected to stop there? I’ll gladly shag you until I’m in a wheelchair. Probably even then - you're irresistible”, he grinned, showing off that cheeky dimple of his.

She gasped with a smile, but noticed him grow serious. “This plan...I made a promise to you. But it’s more than that now. This isn’t just for our future, but our child’s as well”

Hermione nodded in agreement, sliding her fingers between his. “I love you”, she said, and Draco’s mark glowed bright.

“And I love you, both of you”, he responded while glancing down to her stomach, and her mark glowed as well. Their eyes met, lit up in red like two flames, and they were on each other in no time.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed without breaking the kiss. “I’ll always take care of you, you know that?”, he asked, staring deeply into her eyes as their marks continued to burn brightly in the dim room. She nodded before pulling his neck towards her, desperate to kiss him.

The room felt hot and humid with the weight of them. Thankfully Draco wasted no time undressing both Hermione and himself.

After shucking his boxers, he finally crawled onto the bed, turning Hermione to lay on her side as he positioned himself behind her. Hooking a hand under her knee and pulling it up towards her shoulder, she gasped when he placed himself at her entrance, rubbing between her folds to gather the moisture there.

“Please”, she begged, reaching behind herself to grab a fist full of hair.

“Please what?”, he teased, one hand playing with her clit now, his other wrapped underneath her to tease her nipples. The heat of his torso at her back was breathtaking.

“Draco I swear to-”, she was cut off as he plunged into her roughly. She gasped harshly and his lips attached themselves to her shoulder, not relenting until there was a mark there. One hand ghosted over her mark and she could feel the heat radiating off of his against her. The sensation was heavenly.

“You were saying?”, he growled in her ear, catching it between his teeth.

Hermione was speechless. She felt so in tune with him, like she fed off of his energy and he did the same. Like she was more alive than ever before when she was with him. Like electricity was thrumming through her veins. Like they were... _magically harmonious._

There was no telling where she began and he ended, but it didn’t matter. It was just him and her. Them. _And a third on the way._ She still felt uncomfortable almost, as if it weren’t true. Couldn’t be. But she wasn’t upset about it either. If she were to have anyone’s children, she wanted them to be Draco’s. Hermione didn’t even let herself consider Ron...if she did she knew she would unravel. She loved him, but was no longer _in love_ with him. It had been that way before she even found herself so drawn in by Draco.

His fingers found her clit again as he drove into her repeatedly, groaning and showering her with compliments repeatedly. “You’re beautiful. Perfect. Mine. I love you. God Hermione, I love you more than anything in this world. You’re my world. I love you”

Her skin tingled all over as the climax crept up her spine. She gasped over and over, moaning his name and he did the same every time “Draco” escaped her lips.

“Hermione”, he would whisper in her repeatedly.

“Oh God I’m…I’m…”, she gasped as her vision went white and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her thighs trembled in his grasp as he began pouring into her, his teeth grazing her back. “Fucking hell…”, he groaned as he tried to catch his breath, going limp behind her.

She nuzzled into him as he pulled her in close. “Is it possible to cum so hard I get you pregnant again?”, he sighed with a laugh.

Hermione smacked his arm, pretending to hate how bluntly he spoke, but knowing deep down that she loved it. She fought back a laugh that escaped as he buried his nose in her curls, trailing his fingers soothingly over her chest, arms, legs - anything and everything.

She shut her eyes again blissfully, wishing she could stay here forever and never face the world. Safe. Happy. Them. That’s it. It was all she wanted.

“For the record”, she smirked, “I don’t have any names that sound good with Malfoy”

He chuckled lightly, “I’ve got one”, she could feel him smiling devilishly against her. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. All she wanted.

“Alright hear me out, Granger . If it's a boy - Scorpius?”, he raised his head to watch her.

With another smack to his arm Hermione laughed loudly, tossing her head back onto his shoulder, “Abso-fucking-lutely not”


	70. This is it

**Song** : The Night King - Ramin Djawadi

There was only so much planning you could do when preparing for a situation full of uncertainty. They had no idea when the Incendiaries would be there. _If_ they would show up. _How_ they would arrive.

Hermione was on edge - couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. She could barely breathe even. Draco pushed her to eat and was getting quite impatient with her refusal. “What if it happened then? While I’m stuffing my mouth with food they just show up? What then?”, her responses were mostly the same each time he addressed the issue.

And because she couldn’t do any of those things, Draco couldn’t either. He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed - all day every day. It had been three days of this.

Ginny walked around the house freely now, not as a cat, which she was thrilled about and brought up regularly. Apparently it was quite abnormal to remain a cat for days or even weeks as she had. It was somewhat disorienting for her, especially considering she had only become an animagus over the past few months. She missed McGonagall’s guidance.

Hermione and Ginny were seated at the dining table around noon when it finally happened. They were sipping tea - mainly just trying to fill the time. The clocks in the manor seemed to tick as if they were taunting them. Counting down without actually knowing how much time was left.

They sat in silence. Any words that needed to be spoken, explanations given, questions answered - they had all been said by then. _Sit. Wait. Drink tea. Wait. Lie awake in bed. Wait._ Over and over and over.

Draco was upstairs in his study and Lucius was in his on the opposite end of the manor. Hermione had just taken a sip of her tea when she heard the floo from the main hall of the manor. She choked on the tea and the cup dropped to the floor, shattering loudly upon impact.

Her eyes flew to Ginny and neither of them moved or breathed. In no time, Ginny was twirling in the air until an orange tabby cat with green eyes appeared, leaping over the table and into Hermione’s arms. She nuzzled her head against Hermione’s shoulder in reassurance. _It’s now. It’s happening._

Hermione took a deep breath and raised a trembling hand to the door handle before opening it. That was the exact moment that Draco and Lucius reached the top of the stairs from their opposite wings of the manor. Hermione met Draco’s eyes before they both redirected their attention to the wizard in the center of the room.

Nagini slithered around his legs, hissing and taking up a horrifying amount of space as usual. _Kill the snake. Kill Voldemort. Kill the snake. Kill Voldemort._

“My Lord”, they all said in unison, breaking what was complete silence apart from the last horcrux's obnoxious sounds. It felt as if it were teasing Hermione. As if it was saying _I’m right here, come and get me._ And she wanted to do so more than anything.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”, Lucius drawled, slowly descending the steps without even holding the railing. _Absolutely fucking bizarre._

“I received notice of thestrals, dragons, and brooms seen flying amongst the clouds above London”, Voldemort said with a sickening grin. “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now”, he hissed.

Hermione’s heart thumped against her chest and she could hear it in her ears along with a painful ringing. Her head throbbed and she fought the urge to even bite her cheek as the set of red eyes met hers. “Well done, _Hermione_ ”

She fought back the vomit that climbed her throat as her name rolled off his tongue.

“Thank you, my Lord”, she responded with a quick nod. Draco flinched. She saw it. Practically felt it. Thankfully he was behind Voldemort, and therefore out of his line of sight.

This was the one thing she hadn’t accounted for - Voldemort showing up _before_ the Incendiaries. She felt like an imbecile. How had she been so short-sighted? Of course he had Death Eaters patrolling every corner of London. He probably had since the day of her broadcast.

“I didn’t realize you kept pets, Lucius”, Voldemort scowled and turned his eyes on the man after noticing Amity - _Ginny_ \- in Hermione’s arms. The snake slithered closer to her and her grip on the cat tightened.

“Yes well, I’m quite fond of them. Cats can be quite feisty”, Lucius chuckled. Ginny hissed at the man in her cat form and he continued to smirk in response.

“I’m afraid you may have to get a new one, Nagini is rather... _hungry_ ”, Voldemort grinned eerily as the snake didn’t stop its stalk.

“No need, I’ll bring her something. Any particular preferences?”, Lucius smiled. There was something behind those pale eyes that Hermione couldn’t quite place. It was calculating and made her blood run cold. She had no idea what he was doing, but she prayed that she wouldn’t have to up-end the entire thing to save Ginny because the bloody horcrux was hungry.

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment before answering, “Something... _muggle_. Make sure it’s fresh”, he responded, showing his grey and decayed teeth. Hermione shivered at the man’s words.

“Right away my Lord”, Lucius responded before heading towards the kitchen. _Why isn’t he having a house elf do it?_ It was all very...not Lucius.

There was painful silence as they waited for Lucius to return. Clearly Voldemort wasn’t one for small talk. Hermione and Draco weren’t either - when it came to Voldemort. The wizard shamelessly stared between Hermione, cat Ginny, and Draco. It was horrifying.

After what felt like a decade, Lucius returned with what appeared to be a raw steak. She didn’t want to know what it was, nor where it came from. It had to be a regular, average, non-muggle steak. Surely. But it smelled bitter and rancid as the scent filled the air.

Lucius tossed the steak in Nagini’s direction, landing right in front of Hermione’s feet. She jumped back in horror when the snake attacked it greedily, practically swallowing it whole. Something was oozing out of the meat…

Surely it wasn’t...had he? Oh God. Hermione tried her hardest to hide her nervousness but she was trembling with realization. She recognized that smell. And the shimmery liquid that oozed from the meat when the snake gorged itself on it.

_Basilisk venom._

Voldemort was too busy scrutinizing the man who couldn’t look back at him, the man with long blonde hair and a snake-headed staff. The man who had put basilisk venom in the snake’s food. The man who was currently killing the last horcrux.

Hermione met Draco’s eyes, widening them in horror, and she urged him nonchalantly to look at the steak. But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t ever encountered basilisk venom. How had Lucius got ahold of any?

The snake began to choke and Voldemort spun on his heel in shock. “Nagini?”, he asked in confusion. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes. The fact that this man only held anything even resembling affection for a _snake,_ and not for humans was just...it was a joke honestly.

While Voldemort was distracted, Lucius turned towards her, eyes set on hers, cane facing her as well. She quirked a brow slightly. He winked at her with a smirk. _What?_ He nodded down to the snake staff in his hand which encased his wand. She looked down to it and back up. Her mouth opened slightly as she went back and forth between him and the staff, not understanding what he was trying to communicate.

After a few more glances, it hit her like a ton of bricks. It was never out of his hand. _Ever._ The staff. The snake head. That’s why it felt as if she was watched by the bloody thing whenever she was around him. He was seeing through the snake’s eyes. He still had sight, just not through his own eyes. The snake’s eyes glinted and Lucius slightly nodded. Her jaw dropped to the floor. She almost completely forgot Nagini.

Voldemort was chaotic, closing in on the snake protectively and trying to cast counter-choking spells. It didn’t work. Nagini began to immaterialize, as if pieces of her were breaking away and destroying themselves. A loud shriek filled the air that scratched her ear drums painfully. Voldemort yelled out in pain as he felt his last horcrux die.

_This is it._

“ _You_ ”, Voldemort turned to face Lucius with nothing but fury in his glare.

Lucius spread his arms out like a bird, leaving himself completely vulnerable. He practically begged the man to kill him and didn’t even put up a fight. The grin on his face said it all. _Do your worst._

“Avada Kedavra!”, spilled from Voldemort’s mouth in a stomach-churning hiss as green light made contact - shooting out of the Elder Wand and into Lucius’s chest.

His pale eyes rolled back and Hermione’s breath caught. She saw Narcissa die. She saw Harry die. Watching Lucius die after the way they had bonded was like...almost like watching an adoptive father die.

She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t cry. Draco looked as if he had been impaled. The blood drained from his face so much he was practically translucent.

Amity shot out of her arms, twirling in the air to once again emerge as Ginny. Hermione, Ginny, and Draco each formed a triangle with their wands aimed on Voldemort instinctively.

_This is it._

Voldemort turned slowly in a circle, laughing maniacally. “You brought _friends_ how lovely” He was as vulnerable as ever, and as furious as ever too. He looked weak, but he still had the Elder Wand. _Which is Draco’s,_ she reminded herself.

“Two blood-traitors and a mudblood. Oh dear, your ancestors would truly be appalled”, he seethed. No one moved as Voldemort continued to spin slowly, taking all of them in. Hermione swore her heart stopped beating and there was no oxygen in the room. It was sucked away with Lucius’s life force.

_CRASH!_

The windows in the manor completely shattered as a dragon - _a dragon_ \- burst in, completely destroying the front of the manor. And on top of it? Ronald Bilius Weasley himself.

The dragon breathed fire into the room as Hermione, Ginny, and Draco all darted in separate directions. _Terrible fucking timing Ronald._

A black puff of smoke engulfed Voldemort before the flames found him and began to spread viciously throughout the walls.

Hermione was frozen. Flames everywhere. _Apparate you stupid git._ But she hadn’t done that in ages. There was no choice. She would burn to death and they would lose. What if Draco burned to death? Ginny? _No._ She wasn’t having any of it.

By some Sanguis Stigma sixth sense she could tell that Draco had darted down the west wing, so she apparated there.

He skidded to a halt in front of her when she appeared. She grabbed his arm and apparated again, this time outside the manor. _Where is Ginny?_ But she had no way of figuring that out. Ginny was smart. She would apparate out. Hermione tried to convince herself she was sure of it.

Fire licked the building with a horrifying speed and the dragon was up in the air along with Ron. Thestrals and broomsticks came down all around them but Hermione couldn’t even pay attention.

Her mouth had gone dry and Draco gripped her arm possessively. He dragged her with him as he sprinted around the back of the manor. None of the Incendiaries dared shoot a spell at Draco for fear of hitting Hermione. But they still didn’t know the real him, and it wasn’t over yet.

They rounded the corner, almost running face-first into Voldemort before diving separate ways. One of her ribs cracked on impact with the icy ground and she wailed in pain. “Hermione!”, Draco shouted, practically jumping to get back to her but he was forced back when another spell shot his way.

Hermione grimaced and bit her cheek until it bled - the pain overwhelmed her. But something else came with it. Her insides felt like they were boiling with fury.

Right as she aimed her wand at Voldemort he disapparated again and more dragon fire rained down on them. It caught Draco’s leg and he yelped before putting it out with his wand.

Hermione raced to his side, her mind ignoring her broken rib now - there were more important matters.

“Hermione, you’re hurt”, Draco said with fury in his eyes.

“So are you”, she said, taking his hand. They both nodded in agreement that these things would have to wait and sprinted off towards the puff of black smoke that appeared 20 yards away - by Narcissa’s fountain. She felt Draco’s grip tighten on her hand.

Hermione summoned her rope-binding upon Voldemort but he slashed it away as if it were string. He cast a curse quickly that blasted each of them opposite directions as they got closer to him.

“You _foolish, foolish_ boy”, Voldemort said, closing in on Draco where he lay on the ground. “I should’ve know you were as much of a waste as your mother”, he spat.

Draco bared his teeth and shot a spell at Voldemort, but he beat him to it. He disarmed Draco. Hermione’s heart sank to her stomach and tears filled her eyes. _No. No no no._

Draco looked _horrified._ She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t. She had already lost so much. The world felt like it was closing in on her but she pushed back.

She saw Voldemort rear back. “No!”, she shouted.

It was instinct. It was protection. It was _love._

Hermione apparated in front of Draco as green light shot out of Voldemort’s wand - hitting her square in the chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Don't have an aneurism...it's not over yet ;)


	71. Rewind

**Song** : The Untold - Succession Studios

Everything was dark and it felt like her body was struck like lightning. She was flung back, hitting the ground hard enough for the wind to be knocked out of her. Hermione could barely hear Draco’s voice through the buzzing in her ears. Everything was fuzzy.

She was dying. She felt it in every fiber of her body. Like her magic was short-circuiting inside of her, fizzling out. _This is it._

Her heart rate slowed and she was certain it would continue to do so until it stop beating. But then, memories began flashing through her mind like a slideshow.

Speaking to Draco and realizing the Elder Wand was his. Planning. Voldemort showing up. The Incendiaries showing up. Voldemort shooting a killing curse at Draco. Hermione apparating in front of it.

She vaguely heard shouting, spells, and rippling flames against the cold wind.

The pictures in her mind rewinded and played over again, more slowly, more detailed this time. Something was missing. She was forgetting something important, she felt it. Her heart hadn’t stopped beating, simply steadied.

Realizing Draco possessed the Elder Wand. Planning. Practicing magic with Lucius in the dungeon when Draco walked in. Everyone showing up at the manor. Voldemort using a killing curse and Hermione apparating in front of it.

_Rewind._

Draco possessed the Elder Wand. Planning. Hermione disarming Draco playfully when he came into the dungeon to show him she had been practicing.

The picture froze. Hermione disarming Draco. _I disarmed Draco._

Her hearing swam back into her consciousness and her eyes shot open. She sat up quickly, scrambling to her feet eagerly. _Draco possessed the Elder Wand. I disarmed Draco. I possess the Elder Wand._

_I possess the fucking Elder Wand._

Fear made way for triumph. For revenge. For retribution. A horrifying grin crept its way across Hermione’s face. Time moved slowly, as if she was underwater. She slowly turned in a circle, taking in the scene.

Death Eaters and Incendiaries going head to head. There were more Incendiaries than she had imagined. _Much more._ And they were using dark curses against the Death Eaters. She felt hope burning in her chest so brightly she thought she might burst into flames.

Finally her eyes locked on a vicious looking blonde dueling ruthlessly with Voldemort himself. He breathed heavily, dodging and shooting curses. It was so eerily reminiscent of Harry at the Battle of Hogwarts that for a moment she was disoriented by it.

He had promised her they’d win. And now, she’d get to make sure he kept that promise.

No one seemed to notice her recovery, they were all too distracted in their own duels. Fire roared at it engulfed the entirety of Malfoy Manor. _Ginny._

She pushed the thought away in favor of the greater good. The moment they had been waiting for and couldn’t continue to wait for any longer. It was time.

Hermione was spattered with the blood of unknown witches and wizards that lay scattered across the property like a mass graveyard. Her rib jutted out of her skin, she laughed. Her hair was ratted in its ponytail and her clothes were in shreds. She felt unstoppable.

Hermione’s mark lit so brightly with _emotion_ and _power_ and _magic_ that it singed the sleeve off of her shirt. Revealing not only the dragon around her arm, but the “mudblood” written below. She was proud of it. Proud beyond words that she was a fucking mudblood, and she was going to kill Voldemort.

As she drew closer to the only two dueling wizards there that she was focused on, her mark pulsed. She felt herself growing stronger in Draco’s proximity, and he seemed to receive a surge of revitalization as well, quickening his pace. _Magically harmonious._

And for a moment, she was almost _sure_ she felt a presence in her womb. Not a stirring. Not a life yet necessarily, but a magic separate from hers. Power. Strength. _It’s you and me little one. We’re going to do this together. My magic and yours. Us. Together._

For the first time she truly acknowledged the presence and a grin grew across her face, her eyes crinkling at the sides.

With her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she approached them, walking through a wave of flames without receiving even a single singed hair on her head from it. She was unstoppable. She was stronger. She would never burn out. Hermione Granger was going to end it. _This_ is how it was supposed to end.

“Move”, Hermione commanded a few yards away from Draco. He turned abruptly and backed away with an astonished look. His pupils blew wide and relief flooded his features. He looked as though he had seen a ghost. His cheeks were stained with tears that he had fought through for _her._

Voldemort noticed and redirected his attention to Hermione. The look of shock on his face was absolutely extraordinary.

He shot a curse at her but she deflected it with ease. _Deflected_ a killing curse because it came from _her_ wand. Voldemort tried again. Deflected again. It wasn't his wand.

“ _You foolish, foolish boy_ ”, she taunted, using the words against him that he had used only minutes ago on her boyfriend. The father of her child. Her soulmate. _Hers._

Voldemort hissed, shooting curses until he was panting heavily and Hermione dodged them or dismissed them repeatedly with ease. Her power and strength grew even more, it was bursting at the seams.

“It was never yours, Tom”, she smirked. She raised her hand as the Elder Wand flew into it and Voldemort stumbled back. “Isn’t it funny? How something as ridiculous as arrogance can result in ignorance? Your own downfall?”

Voldemort opened his mouth open to say something but she’d had enough foreplay.

“Avada Kedavra”, she said in a chillingly calm voice as the light shot viciously from the Elder Wand and into Voldemort. He incinerated. And it was _beautiful_ to Hermione. Like a work of art. Music to her ears. Lightning struck the ground and all movement seemed to cease as realization hit every present Death Eater - their Dark Marks began fading. She knew because she watched Draco’s lighten until it was a mere outline. He looked as if he was breathing again after being underwater for ages.

Death Eaters scattered haphazardly in all directions. Everyone except Bellatrix Lestrange.

The woman swooped in through black smoke, emitting a discordant yelp as Voldemort was whisked away from existence.

“You _filthy little_ -”, but Hermione was all too ready for this moment.

“Crucio”, she said, feeling the energy flow through her veins like molten lava.

Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, writhing and screaming.

“How d-dare y-you”, Bellatrix tried, but it was no use.

“Crucio”, she repeated, feeling that same warmth in her veins throb with pleasure. The moment was exultant.

Blood jumped out of the woman’s mouth as she choked, barely flinching now. Hermione made her way over to the woman, pinning her limbs down with her hands and knees, deliberately pressing painfully into them.

Hermione reached into her back pocket and pulled the knife that she had been so patiently waiting to use. “Recognize this?”, she said with an evil grin, forcing the woman to stare back at her in horror.

“How about _this_?”, she continued, yanking her sleeve up to show the word “mudblood” that was still etched into the flesh as if she received it yesterday.

She had never seen true fear in the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange before - and it was worth the wait. _Well_ worth it.

She waved the wand, securing the woman’s limbs to the ground so she could use her hands. Ripping Bellatrix’s left sleeve off of her arm entirely, she dug the tip of the blade exactly where her own mark was. _An eye for an eye._

“F-filthy-”, Bellatrix spat but wailed in pain, throwing her head back hard against the frozen ground as Hermione pushed the tip of the blade more firmly, watching the red flow freely from the woman.

“And to think, _pureblood_ doesn’t look any different”, she chuckled, holding the blade up to the woman’s face and wiping the blood across her cheek.

Bellatrix weeped now, and Hermione dove back into her arm, carving into it as if it were a work of art to be displayed in a museum. When she finally finished, the woman was barely breathing.

She leaned back to admire it.

 _BITCH_ was etched hideously there, blood pouring into the white snow underneath Bellatrix and staining it.

The woman’s lip trembled but her eyes were like gunmetal. Hermione glanced down at her stomach, making sure that Bellatrix noticed before she spoke, “Such a shame you won’t ever get to meet your niece or nephew, Bellatrix. Aren’t you so proud to have a half-blood descendant on the way?”

Bellatrix’s eyes blew wide with horror and disgust. She started to speak but Hermione silenced it with a quick, penetrating _slice_ to her throat that rang out sharply.

Hermione laughed maniacally as she watched the life leave Bellatrix's eyes and her body went limp. It was bliss. It was for Harry and even for Narcissa. For her unborn child. For her soulmate. For the Incendiaries. It was all over because of her.

She rose slowly, looking like a ruthless, bloodthirsty villain for all intents and purposes. But she wasn’t. No matter how you frame it, no matter how she decided to take her pound of flesh, she was the hero. She saved the day. She ended it. Hermione Granger.

And she wasn’t fucking sorry for _any_ of it.

The wind whistled harshly against her ears and she turned in a circle to take in the scene. Draco stood back, horrified, as if he didn’t even recognize her. She grinned, eyes glittering and mark glowing fiercely as his did the same. Despite his expression, she could sense the pride he felt towards her. Could sense that he felt guilty about it. She knew he didn't want her to be this way, but she had to be this way. It was necessary.

Thick smoked wafted through the air as the figures around her swam into view, still as statues. The Incendiaries. Ron stood there horrified. His face was white as a ghost and there was a long, bleeding wound diagonally across his face.

She found McGonagall and Kingsley, only a few feet from one another, wearing matching expressions of trepidation.

Then her eyes landed on Ginny. Ginny, whose clothes were half-singed off. Ginny, who had been there for her even when she hadn’t realized it. Ginny - the only person who was smiling just as greedily as Hermione.

They rushed into each other’s arms and sobbed loudly. No one around them moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed. Hermione shook in her friend’s grasp and it was like the high all came tumbling down, and she could truly take it all in.

She pulled back slightly, tears and blood staining her face.

Her eyes met Rons and he sprinted towards her, pulling her into his arms tightly and picking her up off the ground. “Mione?”, he said delicately, as if he wasn’t sure it was actually her. She nodded eagerly into his shoulder, grasping the back of his head and struggling to find air.

She pulled back slowly, taking a few steps back. Everyone’s eyes were still on her.

Her mind raced and slowed, alternating with hesitance. She raised her wand to the sky, looked up, and red smoke shot out of her wand.

It filled the sky, swirling rapidly and whipping against the frigid wind until it fully manifested there like a beacon of triumph, hope, and solace.

A phoenix.


	72. Epilogue

**Song** : Fine Line - Harry Styles

It took a while for Ron to adjust. A while meaning he still struggled with the concept of Hermione and Draco together. Hermione wasn’t surprised, and Draco wasn’t bothered at all of course. Almost a year had passed and he still refused to visit them at the new, reconstructed Malfoy Manor.

Hermione met him once a week for coffee, and all things aside, he was thrilled for the daughter she had on the way. He was to be her godfather and promised he couldn’t not love something that came from Hermione. Ron even teared up when she first asked him. It had been an emotional road for all of them and her unborn child was a beacon of hope.

Luckily, Ron had moved on from their former relationship. It was more of a brother and sister dynamic to begin with. But now he was head over heels in love with Hannah Abbott, who he had grown close to when the Incendiaries were in the height of their efforts. His eyes sparkled whenever he spoke of her and it relieved Hermione tremendously to see him so happy.

Ginny visited the manor frequently and showed no concerns with being around Draco. In fact, she specifically stated, “What is that wanker going to do? Hex me? I’d like to see him try”

Pansy, Daphne, and Blaise had all fled together - were practically forced to do so by Draco for fear of losing another friend, but were able to come back once it was all over. Blaise loved reminding them how painful it had been being the third wheel to Pansy and Daphne, and he constantly complained that they never let him “join in”.

There were, of course, court cases with the ministry, which were a long and winding road of stress, but they all came out okay. Hermione would invite them over whenever Draco seemed depressed and needed to be surrounded by all those that loved and cared for him. You can never have too much of that, and he needed the reminder.

Hermione learned something new about Draco everyday. He was like a fascinating book that had been wrongly tossed away, and hid a plethora of life inside. Eventually she got him to admit to listening to muggle music and knowing a bit about muggle culture from his mother. The record player in her former room had belonged to him.

But Draco still struggled in many ways.

One - he was an orphan. He had no family aside from Hermione and their unborn child.

Two - every now and then, he’d get these strange flashbacks and urges to kill. He was convinced Voldemort dosed him with something to cause this all those months ago - he had never been bloodthirsty, and he hated that side of him that he couldn’t shake. He’d take cold showers whenever the urges presented themselves, not leaving until his skin was pale blue.

Three - he bombed Hogwarts and hadn’t even known it. It was the first conflict that arose after Voldemort died. Ron was up in arms about Draco - insisting he bombed Hogwarts and Draco firmly refused, getting quite heated by the accusation. However, it wasn’t long until the memories flooded back to him due to Voldemort's death. Voldemort had imperiused him to blow up Hogwarts. It made him sick. He didn’t leave the manor for the first two months after that.

Four - he questioned their relationship often. It wasn’t about loyalty or lack of love, but about deserving. He was convinced he didn’t deserve Hermione, but she passionately disagreed and threatened to murder him herself if he ever tried to leave her in hopes that she’d be “better off without him”. Not to mention he had a daughter on the way, and he didn’t want to be anything like his father had been. Detached and apathetic was one thing, absent was an entirely different thing altogether.

Both of their powers were heightened and attuned as they grew closer and closer together, and it was difficult to manage at first. Hermione often had nightmares that her plan had gone awry, despite the fact that she was the one who carried them to victory. She kept the Elder Wand and planned to pass it on to one of her children someday but prayed they would never need it.

In spite of it all, they were there for each other. The love they shared grew each day steadily until it was infinite, but it was all they truly needed. They went on walks, danced in the dining room, dueled each other for fun, and read together in the library. It was pure bliss.

“I’ve been thinking”, Hermione thought aloud one day as her due date drew nearer.

“What a surprise there”, Draco joked, placing a kiss on her cheek before taking a seat next to her at the dining table.

She fiddled with the golden locket around her neck, decorated with a cursive M on the front. It held a photo of Draco on one side, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before her daughter showed up on the other side of it.

Her heart fluttered with excitement.

“I have a name”, she said, a large grin spreading across her face. “I was reading a Hebrew book in the library, and came across ‘Adara’, which means fire.”

“Granger you can be so cliche”, he chuckled, taking one of her hands in his and rubbing his thumb over it soothingly.

“That’s Mrs. Malfoy to _you_ ”, Hermione smirked, twiddling her fingers to show off the ring on her left hand.

“How could I forget? It was my idea”, Draco teased, his dimple showing beautifully.

Hermione scoffed, “Oh please. It was in your mind the second we knew I was pregnant. You’re so traditional about some things”

“As if you don’t love it”, Draco said, placing a kiss on her cheek and stroking her thigh.

“Anyway - more specifically”, Hermione began, “Adara Narcissa Malfoy”

Draco’s eyes softened swiftly - shifting into pale blue pools of emotion. He smiled softly. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love you”, he said, placing a kiss on her lips, lingering until she felt drunk from his touch.

Their marks glowed as well and Hermione’s womb began to glow with it.

~~~

Adara Narcissa Malfoy was born on September 1st 1999. Her deep brown eyes could bring warmth to the Arctic. Her contrasting icy blonde curls could freeze a flame. She was perfect and then some.

She was fond of the red, dragon-shaped birthmark that matched with her Mum and Dad. She’d parade around showing it to anyone she met as if it were a badge of honor. It wrapped around her left wrist beautifully, and even glowed on occasion.

She was intelligent and brave like Hermione. She was cunning and ambitious like Draco.

And when Hogwarts was finally rebuilt, their witty little girl was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Adara had many gifts, and she was different from other witches. She was cleverer, more headstrong, and unafraid to speak her mind. If you asked her parents, she was the brightest witch of her age.

She had an unexplained affinity for the elements, and it horrified her parents at first. However, they soon found that she had more control over her magic than they could ever imagine.

Adara loved to come home from school and visit her parents whenever she got the chance. She had a baby brother coming soon - Leo Theodore Malfoy, and she couldn’t be more excited about it.

She enjoyed many things - reading, flying on her broomstick, singing muggle songs with Bopsy that her grandmother had loved (according to Mum and Dad). She would often walk around Narcissa’s fountain with the house-elf that she quickly grew close to.

But above all - you can probably guess her favorite pastime.

She loved playing with fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not gonna lie, I almost cried writing this last chapter. I've worked on this story everyday for the last two months and have grown very attached to it. If you've read all the way through to the end, I love you and you're amazing <3 As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and if you enjoyed it, please share it with your friends! If you're interested in following my slow growing TikTok account - @its_banannaz. Playing with Fire is on Wattpad, Ao3, and Inkitt. xoxo


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